


ride with me

by orphan_account



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, eddie will be 19 the following november, fresh out of high school, kinda idk they confess pretty quickly, richie barely turned 18 that march, slowburn, so 18 and 19
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 27,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23889841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's June of 1998, and schools had been let out for summer break. A group of friends who freshly graduated high school, prepare for the worst of summer, the heat and disturbing sweat that came with it. Though, a duo in particular in that group established a quest through the country, traveling from state to state, no destination to be exact. Just the two boys in a car, taking on the world.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. derry

**Author's Note:**

> title - ryd , steve lacy

The sun glared down, making sweat bead along hairlines and make asphalt melt the rubber off the shoes of whoever dares to step on the burning roads. No form of air conditioning or fan could cure the terrible heatwave Derry was in the depths of. Rays from the big ball of gas that was 93 million miles away shot its blinding light in the direction of two teenage boys, who lay in a grass field far from the buildings and cars and streets and people, soaking up the heat.

"Jesus, I'm sweating like a pig," Richie says, whose hair is thick and black and curly, with glasses that make his eyes bulge out of his head. His hand behind his head for support, and the other by his face, to take the cigarette from his lips and blow out warm smoke. He fans out his open Hawaiian button-up, to catch whatever air he can. 

It's with the small silence that brings tension between the two, they had been friends for roughly eight or nine years, yet there had to be the reassurance of sorts to let the other know that they were still there. "Let's leave," Eddie proposes, rolling to lay on his stomach as he faces Richie. Eddie wore pink cheeks and freckles over them like a blanket, his curls sticking slightly to his forehead.

"Eds," Richie whined, sitting up and squinting, "Don't leave me." he dragged out, resting on his hands behind him. 

"No, like, leave Derry," Eddie began, "I fucking hate it here. We can just cross the country... together." he sighs, picking at the grass that sprung up beneath them. The atmosphere smelled heavenly, like standing in the middle of a forest after the rain patted down freshly on the desperately dry soil, then Richie's cigarette that was comforting in a sense. Sure Eddie was, for one, asthmatic, and two, completely hated the thought of them slowly killing Richie's lungs and then gradually traveling up his veins to his head, but its what made Richie, Richie. Yes, comforting. 

Richie then furrowed his eyebrows under the heat, "That's a bold statement, Eds." he says, reaching his arm down to a patch of dirt, and putting out the cigarette carefully. The last time he put one out in the dirt he almost spread a fire, it was pretty funny. Stan was panicking while Ben stepped on the flames continuously that made it worse, then Mike spilled Bills water on the area while Bill was losing it as he laughed on the floor, with Eddie knowing how it would end and giggling in the back with Beverly.

Eddie slanted his head and blinked at Richie, who kept his focus on the fray of his shorts that would give him a tan line. 

"Let's get out of this shallow town and go to New York and Chicago, then whatever is in the middle of this stupid country, then race our way to Vegas and avoid the strippers that are planted along the sidewalks and go to California and shriek at the top of the Hollywood sign," Eddie goes on and on, talking so fast he starts to blink more rapidly.

Richie stared at him adoringly with his knees pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around his calves.

"What about your mom?" Richie asks, sort of into his arm so Eddie doesn't see him smile like a dork. 

Eddies world stops for a split second. God, what would he tell his mom? That he's tripping to New York for- who knows how long it'll take to cross the states- with Stan and Mike because she doesn't like Richie all for the given fact he smokes and... well, that's moderately it. But that's exactly what he'll tell her, that it's summer and they just graduated and it's just three eighteen-year-old boys driving to The Big Apple. 

He shrugged lightly, peeling his eyes from Richie's cheeks and up to his eyes, that stared warm and soft. 

"I'll tell her I'm tripping to New York with Stan," he whispers as a warm gust of air sweeps over lightly.

Richie scrunched his nose as a smile grew across his lips. He wiped his forehead and pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose where they had slipped from the sweat. 

This was unusual, coming from Eddie. Richie remembers him hating Derry, but not wanting to disobey his mother from how much power she had over him. 

"If you really want to," Richie shrugged in a sing-song voice after some silence passed. He considered it, and it wasn't a terrible idea to take on the road with Eddie. 

"Let's leave, like, next week," Eddie says, stretching his legs out in front of him and resting on his hands. 

"Oh, Eds," Richie whispers in a New Jersey accent, falling dramatically into the smaller boys' lap, "I'll do whatevah for you," he finishes, lifting his hand to graze over Eddie's cheek with his thumb. Eddie pushed him off gently, his face turning into one that wore disgust.

"Gross, don't ever do that again".

* * *

The following week had been chaotic, Eddie slowly taking pieces of clothing from his wardrobe and preparing for the worst. He and Richie were leaving in two days. 

Eddie shook the weight of his nervousness off his shoulders and took slow strides down the hall and to the living room where his mother sat. 

"Hey, Momma," Eddie said as he sat down next to her, pretty far on the edge because Sonia took up a lot of space on the small sofa. 

"Hi, Eddiebear, you okay?" she asked, muting the show she was watching and facing him slowly.

Eddie nodded and gulped roughly at the lump in his throat, "Yeah, uh, Stan, Mike, and I are, um," he stumbled over his words. Sonia raised her eyebrows confusedly.

"We're driving to New York," he spit out.

Sonia's face dropped, tucking her lips in, "When? How long are you staying for? Why?" she questioned, turning over to completely face Eddie, who was biting the inside of his cheek. 

"Uhm, in two days... and I don't... I don't know how long we'll be," 

Eddie felt nauseous, she looked infuriated. When Sonia opened her mouth to say something, Eddie tensed up and was ready for her to slap, scream or punch the walls and breakdown into tears while he stared at her dumbfounded. But she didn't. He sat there for a few seconds, his fingers tapping at his thighs impatiently, then walking off to his room, and hearing the exaggerate sobs his mother let out. 

The remainder of his packing felt quick, he dreamt about the trip... the states and cities they'd cross, everything they'd see, all the pictures they would take, and all of it together, Richie and Eddie, Eddie and Richie. Best friends.

And if Richie were with him at that moment and read these thoughts that crammed in his brain, he'd say something like, "Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak takin' on the road to cross the great mysteries of America to burn rubber before college," and Eddie would roll his eyes and laugh lightly. Then Richie would proceed to talk about how he'd marry him in Paris one day and adopt a Pomeranian. Which, in the back of Eddies mind, wasn't a terrible idea.

Marriage made Eddie feel... uneasy. Like something that didn't make a whole lot of sense. What, you decide to throw a couple hundred to a thousand dollars over the counter, drop on your knee, expect a yes, then slap a ring on the other's hand? Weird.

The days rolled around quickly, he hardly spoke to his mother since the day he told her he'd be leaving, and he didn't mind. Richie waited in his truck, parked outside. Sonia had been away at work, it was hard to leave without kissing her goodbye and reassuring her that everything would be fine, so he left a note that stated simply, "Love you" on the counter for when she got home. 

Eddie rolled his suitcases out the door, which were filled with clothes and practical necessities only to be greeted by Richie smiling on the small bench they had sitting in the front. 

"Eddie, baby!" Richie exclaimed, standing up and ruffling Eddies' hair, which lasted not too long as it was smacked away. "Hey, Rich," Eddie spoke softly, rolling his bags out. 

It was early, maybe six in the morning? They'd reach Portland at nine, which would be reasonable to begin their day over there. The two walked to the car, breathing in the dullness of Sonia's garden in the front, hardly tended correctly, but it was a pleasant scent of dampened soil. 

"What do you even have in here?" Richie asked as he loaded Eddies bags in the truck. "All the shirts you gave me when you grew out of them at fourteen," Eddie rolled his eyes and tugged a smirk at his lip. 

Their other friends, Bill, Ben, Stan, Beverly, and obviously, Mike, had waited at the farm which stood on the outskirts of Derry. But the ride was quiet, the small humming of both the engine and Richie to Madonna on the radio. The farewells were even worse to their friends, who were unsure if they would see them again before the summer was concluded and they were off to college. It felt unreal, distant. The feeling when you dread something the most, yet you want it so desperately. Saying goodbye to the people they've known for a lifetime, praying the memories collected don't get washed away in the depths of the quarry where most of their bonding developed. 

When they arrived at Mikes farm, all of them waited outside, talking and laughing, then waving when their eyes caught Richies' infamous truck. Eddie looked at his hands and thought, _this is it._

"Ah," Richie clapped his hands as he walked towards the others, "The gangs all here." he smiled to them, blinking abruptly as he heard Eddie shut the car door.

Beverly ran to him first, clinging to his neck immediately. Richie sank into the warm embrace, Beverly always gave warm hugs. Then Mike ran to Eddie, resting his head on his shoulder and clutching to his small body. Then Stan, Bill, then Ben. 

It was bittersweet, like when you watch the fireworks at Disneyland, while it's a beautiful and memorable moment, you know it's all coming to an end soon. Your happiness. Then it's all the orderly and primary life again. 

"I can't believe you guys," Stan laughed out after a few seconds, shaking his head slowly.

"Oh, Stanny, I'll be back in no time to entertain you," Richie reached over to plant a wet and juicy kiss on Stans cheek that was instantly wiped off. 

The others laughed lightly, while Richie earned a small slap on his shoulder from Eddie. This felt great, having the last few laughs all together. 

They all chatted for longer than expected, holding on tight to the presence of each other. But just as Richie announced they should be on their way, Ben stopped them.

"Wait, wait, wait," Ben interrupted quickly, pulling out three mixtapes from his deep pockets. None labeled anything special, just hearts and stars in nail polish that Beverly assumingly spread on. "For your travels," he flashed a toothy smile. 

Abruptly, something seemed to have clicked inside their heads, all grasping for their bags and reaching for things. What would they do without Ben? Mike pulled out a few of his personal books for Eddie to read to Richie, or to himself if he got too obnoxious. Bill gave Eddie some extra Polaroid film and a journal for Richie, to note everything they saw and did and personally felt, he had told him a few times that Richie would be a fantastic writer and how good we were with words... sometimes. Beverly gave Eddie some nail polishes, which were pink and yellow. And Stan... Stan gave them a bag of snacks, peanuts, veggie straws, 24-ounce water bottles, and Gushers. He probably assumed all Richie packed was junk food, if he had thought to pack food at all. 

They were going to miss them dearly, who wouldn't? 

But, after continuous goodbyes and waves and frowns, they were passing the 'Leaving Derry... Come Back Soon' sign, that Eddie stared at and thought, _fuck no_. 

Richie shouted in excitement, grabbing Eddies' wrist and bringing it up to the roof of the car in victory. "Yeah!" he cheered out, "Rev it out like Danny Zuko's car! Be the Sandy to my Danny, oh, Eddie baby!" he cried, keeping his left hand gripped tightly on the wheel.

Eddie giggled loudly and infectiously, making Richie laugh too. He was then shaking him and Richies hand in the air. He rolled down the window and stuck out his arm, feeling out the hot air that brushed on him. They held hands for a while, in a relaxed state now, not really thinking much of it for maybe thirty minutes out Derry, faced with nothing but trees and grass. Until Richie's ears picked up a familiar tune of a song on the radio. 

He untangled their fingers and reached for the volume, turning it up loud.

"God, I didn't know they still played this!" Richie said over the music. Eddie grew a smile over his lips, watching the taller boy catch rhythm in the song.

_Toora loora torra loo rye aye_   
_And we can sing just like our fathers_

"Woooo!" Richie yelled out, bringing Eddie into another fit of giggles in the passenger seat, squirming as his cheeks began to ache. 

"Come on Eileen, oh I swear what he means, at this moment, you mean everything," Richie sang along passionately, staring at Eddie during that last line. Mind you, he could hardly catch his breath. 

Never in a million years would Eddie Kaspbrak think he would travel the country with Richie Tozier. Besides him being his best friend, Richie was loud and annoying, he made jokes at the most uncertain times, but Eddie still got butterflies around him nearly every day for the past eight in a half years. It was frightening. He didn't want it, much less know how to deal with it. 

Eddies' mind wandered over to thinking what holding his hand in open public would be like, what laying on his chest and hearing his heart thump would be like, or what Richies lips would feel like on his neck, his jaw, or his own mou- _NO_. Eddie shut his eyes and shook his head uncomfortably, attempting to keep his eyes away from the boy singing beside him and humming to the odd song. 

Richie couldn't wait until they at least reached New York, but his heart anticipated California. He got accepted to both UCLA and NYU, so it was only a matter of time to choose where to go and live the rest of his life. But he'd want to do it with Eddie. To live in wherever-the-fuck and be happy. 

But for now, it was just the summer of 1998 before college, two best friends making the most of the last three months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this is short , i like the next chapter a lot


	2. portland museum of art

"Oh, fuck, no, no, no," 

"What? Whats hap- oh my god, are you kidding me?"

"Shit," Richie whispered, pulling to the side of the road in the middle of a highway. He had felt an uneven movement below them, realizing they most definitely had a flat.

"We aren't even- fuck, we are on the _outskirts_ of Portland, Richie, not even in the city," Eddie spoke quickly. Richie hardly paying any attention to him, just making sure he's not going to hit the wall. 

Richie got out of the car hastily, reaching the front tire and inspecting it briefly. The whole wheel was almost deflated, it looked limp and sad. He ran his hands through his hair, standing back up with his fingers wrapped on his hips and looking at Eddie though the windshield, shaking his head and waving his hand under his chin airly. 

Eddie groaned, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes before unbuckling himself to meet Richie on the other side. The sky was bright, the sun presumably being at its highest point because it radiated heavily. He could hardly even imagine what it was like on the West where it was drier and duller. 

"Fuck, it's hot... oh my god," Eddie fanned himself as he took his steps over to Richie. "How did you let it get that bad?"

"I didn't know! There was probably a nail in the road and like..." Richie trailed off, putting his hand over his glasses to shade his eyes slightly. 

"Punctured, penetrated," Eddie supported, pulling his sunglasses over his face and earning a sharp wink and a smirk from Richie. 

"The tire isn't the only thing getting penetrated on this trip," 

"Beep, fucking beep," Eddie sighed out, he pretty much knew what to expect and thought as to why he chose that word. 

There they stood, on the side of the asphalt and watching as cars drove past, not batting an eye to some teen boys practically stranded. Teen boys who argued over whose fault it was and what they'd do next... getting it towed was not an option. 

A bleak red Jeep rolled slowly in front of the truck, catching their attention quickly. 

"Great, fuckface, you got us kidnapped," Eddie said quietly as the other car shut off.

"I did?" 

"Yeah, you d- oh shit they're coming,"

The car door shut, with an older man walking over to Richie and Eddie with a sly grin wiped on his lips. "You boys need help?" he asked, with his hands in khaki shorts and dad sandals on his feet, his blouse looked similar to something Richie would own... if he would even think about going near the color coral. 

"Yes! Summa trips givin' us flat tyahs!" Richie said in an Australian accent, Eddie fought a smile and turned away. 

The man hummed, "Where you guys coming from?" he asked, squinting at the two. 

"Ah, this lovely and I are from Sydney! Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi, oi," Richie said, swinging an arm around Eddie's shoulders whose head was kept down. The man looked confused, you couldn't drive from Australia, but figured they took a flight and maybe rented the truck. 

"Need a new one?" he asked after some time, pointing to the front tire. _No shit_. 

Richie nodded and drew his eyes over to the spare tire hung on the back of the man's Jeep, before turning back and giving a bright smile. He wasn't a handy-man, that's one thing obvious, but Richie tried his best to help while Eddie looked off the highway and to the trees and hills below them. Hearing Richie keep the Australian accent was one for the books. But besides that, everything was unusually... green. You could hear the echo of tires rubbing against the road and small chatter behind him, though Eddie peeked his head over the barrier, resting his hands on the top. 

It was, simply, life. And it blew Eddie away, knocked his socks off, is what Richie would say if he could read his thoughts. The trees danced in the middle of a fucking fire, then to be completely still for a few seconds, then the breeze to come again and stir Eddies curls. 

"All right, thank you so much," Richie's voice rose in the distance, bringing Eddie out of whatever he was in. He turned back around, walking the few feet to the car and waving at the man who packed the supplies back into his car. He and Richie had a bit of small talk before insisting they had to get going after Eddie began tugging on his shirt slightly. 

Richie started the car up again, Eddie watching the way his wrist twisted a couple of times with his veins popping out. "That guy totally bought it," Richie laughed out, timing when to pull into the road again. 

Eddie snorted lowly, "Oddly enough" he then said, propping his foot upon the seat and keeping his eyes on the landscape beside him; the road is what it was. 

He felt eyes burning into him, the feeling of being watched terrified him, but this was altered in a sense. Eddie met his left side again, faced with Richie's eyes focused on him and not the straight road ahead... and that stupid smile plastered on his gorgeous lips. He found his senses, and smacked Richies head lightly. 

"Keep your eyes on the road, dipshit," Eddie urged with his sunglasses blocking his eyes, just slightly enough to where he could subconsciously fix his eyes on Richie. 

And he turned around, both hands placed on ten and two. Eddie decided the silence wasn't cutting it, so he reached to the back seats for a few music options. 

"Hey, do you want Blood Sugar Sex Magik or Sublime?" Eddie asked, holding both up to look at for himself. 

Richie hummed, "BSSM, baby!" he abbreviated, "Like BDSM," he barked out a laugh, causing Eddie to wonder how he ever even thought on being his friend, maybe it was just the charming 10-year-old boy Richie was, then grew up to be a flirtatious and clever boy Eddie swore to never fall for. 

"Track five, Suck My Kiss," Richie said the song title, making the final left turn before leaning over to place a sloppy kiss on Eddie's cheek as he reached to put the CD in, wiping his cheek profusely. 

"Gross," Eddie muttered.

The beat began, ringing beautifully loud melodies. Richie began tapping his fingers on the wheel, which became harsher as he bobbed his head slightly. Eddie sat back, watching in amazement almost, his eyes lost in the boy who looked like the sun and the universe combined to Eddie. 

_Should of been, could of been_   
_Would of been dead_   
_If I didn't get the message_   
_Goin' to my head_   
_I am what I am_   
_Most motherfuckers_   
_Don't give a damn_

  
"Oh, baby, think you can be my girl, I'll be your man," Richie sang accompanying the song. His fingers fell to Eddie's hand, going along with the beat lightly.

Eddie felt the rhythm flow through his veins, or maybe it was the bass shaking the car. Nonetheless, he caught onto the song, as he'd heard Richie sing it a million times when it first came out during middle school. 

"Someone full of fun, do me 'till I'm well done," Eddie then hummed quietly, not paying any mind to the hand on his and staring out the window, looking at the different license plates or the colors racing past them. 

"Can't hear you, Eds," 

"Fuck off," Eddie said in a sing-song voice and looked at Richie. 

"Beware take care, most motherfuckers have a cold-ass stare. Aw baby please be there, suck my kiss cut me my share!" Richie sang louder. 

Over the amount of times Eddie told him to shut up, he could hear his voice forever. Even if Richie wasn't fucking... Whitney Houston, his yells and passionate emotion to the lyrics were amusing and unapologetically adorable. 

* * *

The two arrived at a museum, small and dull. Portland didn't have much to offer, much less Maine. But, when Eddie found out there had been a museum of art, he forced Richie to make a detour. They parked across the street, given the fact there wasn't a lot specifically for the museum. 

"Eds! Look, Eds!" Richie exclaimed as they walked towards the entrance. 

A big '7' sculpture in an awkward position. Eddie looked up at Richie, who was taking the digital camera from his bag. He wanted to groan loudly as a rejection of taking the picture, but he didn't.

"Go, go, go!" Richie insisted, smiling as the smaller boy jogged over a few feet to the sculpture. 

"How do I look?" Eddie asked, striking a few poses as if he were a model, and it made Richie feel impulsive and his heart beat faster.

"Like a million bucks!" he exclaimed, putting the camera up to his face and leveling Eddie out. 

"Say, 'I'm in front of a seven because I'm so lucky to be traveling the country with the bestest boy ever!'" Richie said happily, only to be focused on Eddie smiling brightly with his middle fingers in front of him. Richie frowned but snapped the photo anyway. 

Eddie made his way back and next to Richie, who examined the photo with a grin. "Aw, look at you!" he cooed sarcastically, and staring at the way Eddie looked at himself in the picture. 

He caught himself in the void thousands of miles away from reality and emphasized they look at the paintings and naked statues. In which Eddie gagged jokingly at. The two left as quickly as they entered, the building was far too elegant and mature for a pair of two teen boys to not hesitate on thinking to goof around. 

"What a snooze fest!" Richie said as the doors shut behind them, it was around midday now. Eddie looked past his shoulder at the '7' statue then back up at Richie. They were similar, and it made Eddie think, _well... how?_ Both were awkward and fairly obvious as it was just... there, just as Richie would be. 

"Can I take a picture of you?" Eddie asked so suddenly it startled Richie. 

He nodded, pulling the bag off his shoulders and handing it to Eddie. He chose the Polaroid with no hesitation, then slinging it over his back. 

"Get b-"

"Do you think I can climb up, Eds?" Richie interrupted, already attempting at finding balance or grip somewhere. 

Eddie sighed out, "No, Richie, I don't think you can climb up that, you'll probably get arrested," he denied reasonably.

"Oh, come on," Richie flopped his arms by his sides, "I'm a six-foot-three skinny dude, what's the worse that could happen?" 

"You fall and break your neck," 

Richie stared at Eddie with intent, but turned back to the statue and began to hoist himself up. It was easy, the small crevises he could jam his foot into and slip up. Eddie rolled his eyes once Richie stood upright, pumping his fists up in the air. 

"Say, 'I'm a fucking idiot!'" Eddie said, holding the camera up to his eyes and taking the picture as Richie repeated the phrase loud enough for the world to hear. But only Eddie could apprehend it.

The way down was harder, telling Eddie he could jump down and it'd be fine with obvious rejections. His grip wasn't that great, not as great as it was on Eddies thighs. Though he made it down anyway, with the Polaroid fully developed in Eddies grasp. 

"Lemme see," Richie muttered, peering over Eddie with an arm on his shoulder. "Huh," 

"What? What's wrong with it?" Eddie asked with sincerity bleeding past his vocal cords. 

Richie shook his head slowly, "I look... I look gorgeous, darling!" 

Eddie scoffed, shuffling out of Richies grasp and snatching the picture before shoving it in the pocket of his shorts. 

They figured if there wasn't much to do, they'd head down to Vermont, which was a four-hour drive. For the most part, it was awkward. Eddie took behind the wheel this time, swearing he wouldn't pop a tire. The smaller boy kept his focus on the road ahead of them, anticipating that 'Welcome to Vermont' sign, but with Richie's hand death-gripping his thigh. Was the AC even on? Because Jesus, it was hot in there. 

"And the one she got was sorta rotten and insane, small things so sad that birds could land," Richie mumbled to the song on the car radio, looking at the map in front of him conscientiously. 

"Mhm, take the exit after this one... I think," he said to Eddie. Richies feet were now rested on the dashboard and his seat extended as far as it could go.

"You think or you know?" 

"I know, I know, take the next one," 

Eddie peeked past Richie's overcrowding body to the side mirrors, and merged into the right lane and down the exit ramp.

"NASCAR driver Eddie K. taking on the roads," Richie brought his announcer voice out. "I'm not even driving that fast, I'm going thirty-five," Eddie said bluntly. "Oh! Speedy recovery, Mr. Kaspbrak. Tell us, how do you do it?" 

"Shut up, Rich." Eddie rolled his eyes.

Richie shrugged and turned to face the window and incoming traffic, moving his foot to the beat of 'Interstate Love Song'. God, he couldn't wait until he could bury his face into the fresh and cold cushion of a hotel mattress, his ass ached from sitting. He turned back to Eddie, his eyes moving directions on the different features on his beautiful face with the sun hitting him perfectly. 

But he turned to the back seats to retrieve the journal Bill gifted him... barely earlier that morning, it felt like a few days ago. Richie didn't know what to write, he'd never really done an entry similar to this. 

"Hey, Eds," Richie spoke hoarsely. Eddie hummed in acknowledgment, absolutely refusing to take his eyes off the road which ran below them. If he did, he would never go back.

"How do you write?"

Eddie jerked his head and looked down at the numbers of the time in an olive green and black which read three seventeen. His palms began to slip with sweat and his heartbeat quickened, remembering his mother would be home at any time during the next few hours. Reading the small note and realizing her son was gone. Probably going to scream in that small house so loud the neighbors would worry and run to call the police to question what terrible accident Mrs. Kaspbrak had this time. It would be the worst of the worst, her son running away to New York (as he'd told her) at eighteen years old without saying goodbye, or giving her a hug so deep he could smell her breath of which forced black coffee down his airways, or a gown or large tracksuit that reminisced Eddie of sitting close to her side in the hospital room while she sobbed with his father hardly fogging up his breathing mask. Or maybe he would give her his signature kiss on her rough cheek. 

He shut the thought out and spoke after some time had passed, "Depends on what it is," 

"Like, an entry, babe," 

"Journal?" Eddie asked, slightly shocked that Richie was using Bills gift. Maybe he was just extremely bored, maybe he was finally tired of running his mouth. No way. 

"Oui," Richie pulled the seat closer, so his knees were near his chest. 

Eddie scrunched his nose and let some concepts take over into words. "Write about what you saw, what you did, what you touched, what you felt, what you... I don't know... smelled, thought about in that big brain of yours." he smiled, nudging Richie's knee and glancing briefly. But that brief moment was too long. 

Eddie felt his core race a Triathalon, putting his entire system into a state of adrenaline, and slapping an alarming shade of red on his cheeks, more than what the day-star had given him. As he understood Richie had eyes golden eyes fixed on him this entire time. He wanted to discard that, there was no way Richie had been gazing at him that whole moment. Staring was just something... staring was apart of what Richie did to take in the information given to him thoroughly. Yes, exactly that. He faced the street ahead, nearly bumping into a white Porsche. 

Richie nodded slowly, with a sly grin still lifting his lips. He knew what he knew. 

_Breathing is the hardest thing to do_   
_With all I've said and all that's dead for you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes yes i know australian seasons are opposite but that's not what richie was thinking abt
> 
> also why is this so uh long


	3. entry 1, vermont

_June 22, 1998_

_Ah, this is fun, isn't it? Finally keeping my mouth shut._

_Before I die and this gets published to be the greatest travel documents ever, I want to thank Big Billiam Denbruh._

_Anyway, here I am, sitting in the passenger seat of my pops Silverado with Edward Assbrak dragging me around in a piece of metal with an engine and tires. Around the fucking country. I guess that can be one mark off my bucket list, next is giving Eds a big sloppy kiss on his lips. Was that too soon?_

_We left Derry at maybe 7 and went to Portland. Portland was a fucking SNOOZE FEST I TELL YOU!!!! Eds n I went to a museum full of middle-aged couples who most definitely own a boat and come up to Maine every summer, and for what???? I took some ADORABLE pics of him, his smile his so bright but then there's just two middle fingers splayed in front of him. No complaints, he's the cutest._

_Eddie took two polaroids of me, I look supaaaa motherfucking sexy in em. I tried asking for them to maybe keep as a memory of sorts, but he said nooo like the brat he is._

_We're on our way to Vermont now. We completely skipped NH because what the fuck is there any way? I swear, the only thing the east coast is known for is like NYC, that's it. So its fucking BORINGGGG!!!! Come on, Rich n Eds need something better to do than stare at each other and hold hands and sing and whatever it is and act like nothing happened after._

_I'm going to take a fantastic dip at Wrightsville Beach. Maybe the sun will be setting by the time we get there, and we'll sit in the trunk and count the stars through giggles and sarcasm and hand-holding. But whatever._

_He looks so cute. It's hard to focus on writing in here when Eddie is literally sitting right next to me with the sun beating down on him, making him glow more than he already does. Eds makes me question a lot of things I thought I knew already, or maybe I never knew and just suppressed them deep down because that's what I seem to do a lot. He tells me I need to work on that. And he's right, so right. Like my own personal therapist I'm probably in love with._

_I popped a few Gushers in my mouth, it's hard to believe Mr. Urine knows me so well. Also, what the FUCK are VEGGIE STRAWS??? IM LOSING MY MIND AND EDDIES WHISTLING THROUGH AN ORANGE ONE._

_I can't stand it, not being able to mark him up in kisses and call him mine. But that's weird. Because it's just a platonic relationship or whatever the fuck. Though it's different than friendship with Bev or Bill or any of them._

_Whatever, I can't write anymore it's too much for me I need to smoke right goddamn now and Eds is gonna yell at me._

_\- Rich n Eds Adventures_

_no Richies diary_

_what the fuck is that_

_Richies saga_

_RICHIE'S CONFUSING MIND AND HIS THOUGHTS BABYYYYY_


	4. welcome to montpelier, vermont

"We made it baby!" Richie shouted, sticking his head out the window and yelling as they crossed the state line. Eddie almost couldn't believe it, the fact 'Welcome to Vermont' was in front of his eyes. He smiled, gripping the wheel tighter until his knuckles were white. 

It soon felt like Maine, boring towns with lined-up brick buildings... but it was greener, with far more hills and trees and mountains. "Where are we going?" Eddie asked at a stoplight. 

"Wrightsville Beach," Richie answered and pulled the seat back up so he was sitting normally. 

They made their way to the location, the sun falling ever so slowly. The sky was still the gorgeous blue it always hued, small and thin clouds scattered around. When the time came, Eddie changed on the opposite side of the car from Richie into his swim trunks. His were pink with palm trees and Richies had been blue with rubber ducks. 

No one had been there, surprisingly, and the water was cold. Eddie sat at the rim of the sand where the water would barely reach the back of his thighs. He sat with his hands behind him, taking in the last bit of the sun with sunscreen plastered all over his skin.

"Come in!" Richie yelled over the birds chirping. He had stretched over to the middle of the lake. The water skimmed his chin slightly as he tried keeping himself afloat.

Eddie groaned, "Why?"

"Because everything is fun with you. I'm just sitting here alone drowning in your beauty." 

Richie then smiled once Eddie sat up completely with a distinctive expression, "I will drag you in if I have to," Richie added, already stroking his arms through the water.

"Rich, no," Eddie laid on his back in the sand and covered his eyes, before hearing the sloshing of water and feeling the grip of hands on his arm and inner knee. He opened his eyes to realize that Richie was endeavoring to carry him into the water and potentially throw him in, so he kicked and squirmed. 

"Richie, I swear to god! If you throw me in I'm leaving you for-fucking-ever!" Eddie shouted, beginning to tug his arms back once Richie's arms gave up on carrying Eddie. 

"Just get in the water!" Richie fought back laughing hysterically.

Eddie drew back hard, causing him to lose balance on his feet and slip with a yelp. Richie, in an attempt to save his fall, kept his hand on Eddie... but fell forward with him, and landed on top of the smaller boy, whose face held nothing but utter shock and embarrassment. 

Richie's lips slipped a smirk, "This is nice, isn't it?" both palms digging in the sand on either side of Eddie's shoulders. Eddie glared up and wrapped his arms around his torso.

"No, not at all. Will you get off of me?" 

Richie frowned and soon placed a quick kiss on Eddie's cheek, then stood up to dust off his knees. "Eds, please," Richie begged as he got back into the water, "How else will you wash the sand off?" he added, given the fact Eddie was struggling to rub and wipe the grains off his sticky and sweaty skin that didn't go well with his sunscreen. Eddie obliged, jogging to the water and letting himself slowly sink.

This all felt distant. Like it was impossible they crossed two-state lines in a day. Though with each other, it felt like anything was possible, as cliche as it sounded. Eddie lied about losing his bracelet, only to push Richie down further in the water. And laughing. God, laughing never felt better with anyone else. 

At the end of the night, after swallowing a shit load of water and pulling each other down, they lay in the trunk watching the stars dance by above and around them. 

"Hey... hey, Eds?" Richie said with a raspy and low voice. 

Eddie hummed, keeping his eyes above him and not on the boy next to him.

"You know I-" he started, thinking a million things at once as if his thoughts outnumbered the constellations. Eddie turned over to his side and faced Richie after he didn't say anything. "You what?" Eddie asked. And Richie's conscience came running back to him.

Richie shook his head, "Nothing, nevermind. We should catch a motel or something," he retreated his words and thoughts, throwing the t-shirt that lay next to him over his head and down his torso, and propped himself up in front of the suitcases that held a shit ton of stuff.

* * *

"Finally," Richie mumbled, immediately burying his face in the pillows of his bed. Eddie brought the bags in, locking the door behind. "Are you going to shower?" Eddie asked and already picking through his pajamas in his grey suitcase.

With no response, he looked at Richie facedown on the mattress, his back heaving with deep and slow breaths. Logically, Eddie assumed he was sleeping and ventured to the bathroom behind him.

His shower was quick but warm. Extremely warm, actually, the mirrors fogged up along with the room, and it was only a matter of time until he felt claustrophobic and trapped in the thick humidity. Eddie ran his fingers through his hair and knocking his head back, letting the water drip down his curls and down his back. He began to wonder about how he was in this position. In a motel bathroom in Vermont with Richie Tozier. Then to a sensitive part, how his mother was feeling, terrible probably- no, certainly. However, she couldn't hold on to him forever, he was eighteen for god sake, and he wasn't someone to be held down in his own home either. Eddie dismissed it and turned the nozzle of the shower in a circle to turn it off. 

The room was cold yet pleasant, especially the slick feeling of the sheets against his arms and legs. "Night, Rich," Eddie whispered in the pitch darkness of the room. He knew Richie couldn't hear him, but it was the thought and knowledge that he said it, their first day coming to an end as Eddie's eyes fluttered shut. 

Before Eddie could realize it, the sun peeked through the curtains and a loud voice bounced in his head.

"Eds, babe, get up. Breakfast is only out for another hour." is what the voice- Richie's voice- called out, nudging at his shoulders. 

"Stop calling me babe," Eddie muttered into the pillow and tugging the sheets past his head, only for them to be snatched away with a groan. Eddie sort of likes the small names Richie tends to call him often.

"How do you sleep so much?" Richie asked and throwing himself next to Eddie. He smelled like coconuts and a small mention of mint, Eddie soon realized that scent is what his own shampoo and body wash smells like and darted himself up.

"Did you use my stuff?" Eddie snapped, his expression still groggy under the sunlight providing the room.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows, "Yeah?" he genuinely didn't know what was so wrong about utilizing his bottles, it wasn't like they never shared things anyway. Like when they had one of many big sleepovers at Richie's house, mostly all of them used his hygiene products, if you will.

Eddie rubbed his eyes and looked at Richie who held a shit-eating grin. "Can I brush my teeth first?" he then asked, running his fingers along the hem of the large tee. 

They'd have to admit, the breakfast wasn't all that great, but it was something. "No, no, no, it was blue and green, not whatever the fuck you said," Eddie argued, taking another crisp bite of bacon. 

"Whatever, dickface," Richie surrendered, "That's just not how I remember it." he picked at scrambled eggs with his fork. Eddie mocked him with a mumble, throwing Richie into some giggles escaping his lips. 

The two were soon bored of sitting there, random people giving them the side-eye. On the way to the elevator, Richie placed a hand on Eddie's shoulder to keep up with him. 

"Is that my shirt?" Richie turned to face Eddie.

"It _was_ ,"

They were back in the room, sitting on their separate beds and watching The Karate Kid, it was the only interesting movie of all the channels that ranged. "Walk left, safe. Walk right, safe. Walk in the middle, you get squished like a grape." Eddie muttered to the movie. He heard the shuffling of sheets and turned to Richie across the room.

"Can I lay with you?" Richie asked with his elbow under his head.

"Why?" 

"I'm lonely," 

"I don't know what you want me to do about that," Eddie turned over flat on his back, a part of him wanting to say yes. Thinking, _only if you cuddle me._

"I'll cuddle you," Richie suggests, like he can read all of Eddie's thoughts, and that makes him shiver.

Eddie turned over again to look at Richie, "Spoon the pillow," he said dryly. 

Richie huffed and shoved a pillow in front of him, earning another one hitting his back. He turned to see Eddie sitting on his knees with another pillow in grip and the smile that was seconds away from becoming an infectious laugh.

"Is that what we're doing now?" Richie chuckled lightly, reaching for the pillow he had been tangled around a bit ago and throwing it towards Eddie. 

Eddie breathed out a shocked laugh, "Bitch," 

He flung himself across to Richie had hit him repeatedly with the pillow in hand on his head and torso. Eddie himself got a few good slaps to the face with the rough cloth, definitely leaving his cheeks pink from that. 

Richie soon got his hands on Eddie's waist, tackling him to the bed and tickling his stomach like there was no tomorrow.

"R-Rich! Please!" Eddie giggled, gasping for air. He soon stopped after a few seconds, "You're adorable, you know that right?" Richie said solemnly above Eddie, similar to how it was at the beach yesterday. 

Eddie stared blankly at Richie, refusing to let a smile take over. He could pull him down and kiss him right there, tell him how much he's liked him, but no. "With how much you tell me, I'd think so," Eddie feigned. 

"Pft," Richie lets out, rolling beside Eddie.

The latter gives in, eventually. His neck crooked on Richie's shoulder and his arm splayed on his chest. Its comfort. That's all it is, the feeling of a warm body next to you. 

Richie tilts his head to meet Eddie, "You comfy?" and breaks that stupid smile out. Eddie hummed contently, "You're warm," is all he manages to say. They're exhausted, needless to say.

It's barely hit around noon, and his mind is becoming unaware and foggy, drifting back into a really good sleep, he just knows that he will wake up feeling far better. Same with Richie. _It's nice_ , Richie thinks, he could stay like this, he _wants_ to stay like this. Cuddled up watching movies from the 80s in bed with a hazy film over his vision, fighting sleep. Maybe not in a cheap motel. 

After a few hours, it's now four. They're more than well-rested, shaking with random bursts of excitement and conversations of absolutely nothing. 

"Do you ever shut the fuck up? I'm tal-"

"I think we should try marijuana,"

"Are you insane?" Eddie widens his eyes at the sudden comment. "Of course, only for you," Richie teases, ruffling Eddie's hair. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, "Anyway, we leave the twenty-fifth and go straight to New York?" 

Richie nodded before dipping his head back and shaking Goldfish into his mouth. Richies bed had been cluttered with food and drinks, some packed, and some from the vending machines down the hall. 

"Hey," the taller boy says, earning Eddie's attention, "Your shorts are nice," 

Eddies shorts weren't anything special, they were long blue basketball shorts that grazed the sides of his knees. "Shut up," Eddie smiled and bit down on M&Ms. They laugh practically all night at the nonsense occurring, it's pleasing. 

"Wait- no- hey, wait, listen," Richie stumbles over his words, containing his laughter aside from Eddie. "You're telling me... that-" Eddie barked out a laugh.

"Eddie!"

"What?!"

"Can we _please_ get milkshakes?" 

Eddie blinked and fixed his expression to a calmer one, "Yeah, yeah, sure. Let's go." he nodded quickly. 

So they did, finding one on the main roads in the city. Eddie slurped the last of his strawberry shake, examining as Richie dipped a fry into his vanilla one. 

"That's disgusting," Eddie comments, gathering the last of the drink to the brim and tilting his head back. "Bullshit," Richie says boldly, biting the fry again tentatively. 

"Hey, you want the other half?" Richie asks, nodding to his burger on a dish, messy with sauce. "I can't finish it," he continues, he left a little less than half though. Eddie shook his head and grabbed a few of his fries.

Richie's fingers danced around the table, "Should we call Bev? Or Stan? Or any of them?" he asks, drawing his eyes up to Eddie. 

"Yeah, I miss them, I wanna hear their voices." Eddie nods, looking up at Richie. He was beautiful under any circumstance, really. It didn't matter what was happening or what face he was making, because Richie just _was_ , he always looked pretty. 

The call is short, it's Beverly and Ben on the other line, asking questions and saying how much they were missed. "I'll bring you something when we get back," if they got back, "Don't worry." Eddie smiles through the receiver. Richie lets out an obnoxious "Love you, Bevvie," three times before the phone is right back on the hook. 

On the way back to the motel, Eddie recalls the time when Richie helped milk one of Mikes sheep in the early years of high school. He tells him how awkward his stance was, and how Richie drank half of the bucket out of a dare and threw up behind the barn with all the others laughing their lungs out. "How could I forget?" Richie says, "It happened to _me_." 

"You forget things a lot, Rich," Eddie looks out the window and to the shadowed trees, minimal light on the road. 

Richie scoffs, earning a pathetic glare from Eddie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks i hate it <3


	5. new york city

Honking cars, bright lights, the chatter of tourists, mutant rats scurrying the subways. Ah, New York at its finest. The drive was endless, Eddie felt like they would never reach New York. They did, later that night, booking a hotel that wasn't the fanciest, but it made do. 

"Where should we go first?" Richie asked, tugging on pajama pants up his legs and over his hips.

Eddie shrugged, "I think we should go to the Statue of Liberty," he suggested. Richie grinned, "What would we do there?" 

"Take pictures or something, I don't know," Eddie pulled the covers back on the bed and adjusted his pillow. 

"Well, Eds, I think we should go to Times Square, be real stupid tourists," Richie says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Eddie takes a long look at him, remembering when they were younger and how much bigger his spectacles were on his face. Richie eventually grew into them, of course. But the thought makes Eddie smile. 

"No, let's do that at night when the lights are the brightest," he states, getting under the covers in his bed. 

Richie soon followed the action, then flicking the light switch off. "Amazing idea, Eds. Goodnight, sweet dreams," Richie said, pulling the glasses off and yanking the rough covers over his shoulders. 

"Night, Rich, sleep tight,"

* * *

The two stood from afar, squinting at the green statue in their sight. There wasn't much about the Statue of Liberty, it just looked interesting and stood out. 

"Did you know they almost lost the transport at sea?" Richie asks with his hand over his eyes. Eddie looked up at him, relaxing his eyes once the sun wasn't really in his face. "Where'd you learn that?" Eddie smiles, colliding his shoulder with Richies, which only made their shirts stick to their skin more.

"Mrs. Wyrin was a beast at history during middle school, I'll tell you that," Richie said, preparing another picture of Eddie. 

Eddie held a peace sign and a beaming smile with sunglasses shadowing his face. When Richie showed Eddie proudly, he looked behind him and at the large sculpture, because holy shit, they were in New York City. "Lookin' like ya worth moa than this entiyah city, Eds," Richie said in a New York accent, it was fitting, he supposed. 

At the souvenir shop, Richie bought a purple watch-ring that Eddie stated was ridiculous, alongside an, 'I HEART NY' tee. Eddie purchased a white shirt that said 'Big Apple' in a cursive font and inside an apple, Richie thought it was somehow clever. This city was expensive for no apparent reason. 

The streets were crowded and loud, Richie wondered a million times if he'd lost Eddie (again). Both decided they go to the Mcdonalds near them, which meant they'd take the subway. God, the disgusting subway Eddie _hated_. 

Eddie clung onto Richie, quietly stating lots of things that happened in subways, and how filthy they were. He took caution at anything that caught his eye, thinking it was a rat with diseases or a roach that- well. Roaches were simply disgusting with no question about it. 

"You better not touch anything, Rich," Eddie warned as they entered the doors, gripping Richies shirt. 

"Eds, it's okay," the taller boy reassured, only to be lectured once more. 

"No, it's not okay. I'm _not_ putting my ass on those seats, I'm _not_ touching these poles, I'm _not_ touching anybody and neither are _you_."

Richie couldn't help but smile and shrug, Eddie wasn't wrong at all, it was overwhelming and revolting.

"I got accepted to NYU," Richie says during the ride, and Eddie freezes. "UCLA, too, but I don't know which one." 

They never talked about college- maybe early high school, but when the time came quickly, the topic was closed off in a safe with the combination thrown away, then retrieved at an inconvenient time. 

"Eds?" Richie stares intensely, bringing Eddie back into reality. "You okay?" he asks and avoiding the lady with a leopard print hat asking for money, which he turned down many times. 

Eddie nodded and blinked a few times, "You didn't tell me," he whispers like it was only meant for his mind to hear. 

Richie looks taken back, "Oh, I... it was pretty recent. I would've told you at some point, Spaghetti. What, you think I'd leave you like nothing?" he forces a smile on his lips through the thick and anxious air. That's not at all what Eddie wants- some weight is taken from his shoulders once he hears it as a real confession, but it was Richie. He joked at everything at any time.

"I wouldn't mind leaving you behind," Eddie slides on a smile. It was an awkward position they stood in, both standing in the middle of a moving train because Eddie absolutely refused to sit down or grip for support. 

"Take that back," Richie pouts. 

"Why if it's the truth?" 

Richie mocks him and rolls his eyes, jogging down the small aisle of the sub they rode in, whilst having a difficult time balancing. 

"Where are you going?" he asks after some time and they reached Manhattan. 

"Stanford," Eddie responds quickly and confidently. He remembers the night he got the letter in the mail, Eddie screamed and cried for hours on end with no shame. 

The taller boy looks at him with a genuine expression, "No, shit! You got into _Stanford_?" Richie breaths out shocked. 

Eddie nods and tilts his head, "Is that such a surprise?" he almost challenges, walking up the steps far ahead of Richie. 

"No, but that's insane. It's Stanford," Richie echos dreamily, though something in his gut retreats and realizes that's in Cali-fucking-fornia. Shit. 

Eddie is just quiet, he doesn't know how to react at the fact they could be separated nearly three thousand miles. He wanted to tell Richie to choose UCLA... but right now, it didn't matter because they were in New York City together, they were traveling the country together. No one else.

Mcdonalds is cluttered and gross, there's a lot of people in there eating and talking until their jaws break. Eddie wonders how long until Richies jaw breaks from talking so much. He feels sympathetic to the workers who aren't paid enough for this half-ass job. Sonia never let Eddie go out and grab food, especially fast food- which was hypocritical and contradicting. 

Richie orders chicken nuggets, a Mcflurry, and fries. Eddie decides on fries and a cheeseburger, after Richie insisted on a Happy Meal and flipping him off constantly. 

They chatter and laugh like never before, they always laughed with each other and it felt _great_. Their cheeks were aching and their chests burned from the pressure. All of it was reassuring, it somehow let them know that no matter what, they were always beside each other through everything. Literally everything. Eddie was there when Richie broke his first pair of glasses accidentally. Richie was there when Eddie broke his arm. Eddie was there for Richies first kiss, and vice versa. All during Stella Lyte's birthday party, it was hilarious and sloppy watching the other kiss someone they vaguely knew. 

Eddie stared up at the Twin Towers, glowing brighter than the other buildings, thick and bold. They were tall and stood over everything, he wondered what the rest of the city looked like from that gorgeous view. 

_Click_.

The smaller boy jumped at the sudden sound and looked at Richie with confusion. He had taken a picture of him. Richie smiled and showed him the image taken on the digital. Eddie stood facing the side of the camera, a glaze over his eyes and lips agape in adoration to the city he stood in. 

"Look at you!" Richie cooed to the picture, Eddie all but rolled his eyes. "The cutest boy," Richie says aloud.

Eddies cheeks go pink, but it's darker and he's more than thankful it's hard to see. He shoves Richie's head to the side softly, "Idiot," he mumbles, but he's not calling Richie names. 

Times Square is a mess, there are far too many locals and tourists as they are to be taking pictures and be comfortable around. Everyone has this angry look plastered on their face, and if you make the wrong move, you're six feet under. Richie wonders why people in New York act the way they do. Maybe it's their ego that screams "I can afford to live in New York, what can you do about it?" and it makes his insides roll in disgust. Besides that, the two only got a few admirable pictures, less than they planned but it hit a soft spot.

* * *

Richies feet are sore once they get back to the hotel, he still manages to shower though yawns and fluttering eyes. Eddies fixed himself up on his bed, his ankles crossed in front of him while he watches Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. He missed that show dearly, it was heartwarming to see it on TV again. 

All in all, Richie exited the bathroom, his hair damp and knit into dripping curls and there are red splotches on his arm and face that Eddie figures is from the hot water to his sensitive skin. Eddie always tried avoiding eye contact when Richie had just showered, it distracted his mind too easily. 

"Where are we going tomorrow?" Richie yawns, taking his brief steps to his bed conveniently near the bathroom. 

Eddie cursed to himself for Richie talking just then. "I was thinking we go straight to Ohio," he says getting under the covers. 

"What's in Ohio?"

"I don't know, I just wanna skip Pennsylvania." 

The truth is, Eddie does know why he's craving to avoid Pennsylvania. His father was born there, and he'd passed when he was just a young boy. It all broke Eddie's heart, it still does to this day, it _shattered_ him. He grew up without a father-figure in his household, leaving Sonia to do as she pleased. Eddie never had anything wrong with him medically, though she swore that he would end up like Frank- sick and dead if he didn't do what she said and took his 'medication'. 

Richie shrugged, tearing away from the way Eddies fingers wove together and played mindlessly. "I'll get you up early. Night, Eddie Spaghetti," Richie fumbled with the pillows and blankets until he was comfortable on his end. 

"Night, 'Chee. Don't call me that," 


	6. entry 2, nyc

_June 27_

_Whaddup mutherfuckaaaa!!! It's like really late, 2 am I think. We're in New York! Well, we leave tomorrow morning. It's a bummer. NY isn't that great, but with Eddie, I had such a blast. We didn't do much, as it's like a business city soooo??? I dunno. I was comfortable here, it felt right walking on the streets. These big crowds kinda shut me up, but they're loud and rowdy, like me. This shit makes me wonder if I choose NYU or UCLA, and it's tough. Even though I feel like I make absolutely zero sense._

_I learned today that Eds got accepted to Stanford, which sorta breaks my heart. Fuck that._

_We're going to Ohio tomorrow, skipping the Pencil State because, well, he wants to. But I'm not budging to ask why, if he wants to, he wants to, and if it keeps him happy, it keeps him with that beautiful smile._

_He painted our nails, too. My left hand is pink and right is yellow, vice versa for Spagheds. I miss Bev a lot. She could tell me how to act around him, maybe._

_I wonder what's in Ohio that may seem so special. Probably nothing._

_We ate Mcdonalds a billion times the small time we were here, surprisingly, Eddie didn't mind._

_I hope he's okay. He's been a little quiet, so I have to keep him laughing, but I love that- I don't care if I lose my tongue doing such. I took a few pictures. Hard to keep memories when you're so in the moment, you know?_

_Whatever, the only light source I have is from the TV that's playing a show from like the '50s or some shit I dunno. My eyes are hurting. Goodnight, until tomorrow in the state that claims, "With God, all things are possible"_

_Bullshit if you ask me._

_-Richie T-T-Toziiieeeerrrr_


	7. inniswood metro gardens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this . this is ...

The morning is bright and cheery for Richie and Eddie. They drive down to Ohio midday- and it's exhausting. The two switch at four hours in, so the other isn't too tired throughout the trip. They listen to stupid music Richie finds amusing. Richie discovered Tupac Shakur, and all he's done is memorized the majority of his songs displayed on the tape.

Eddie is quite entertained at the sight of Richie attempting to sing along to the songs, and thinks about how wide Richie's music taste goes. One minute he's breaking his neck to 'Say it Aint So' by Weezer and 'Aneurysm' by Nirvana, then singing poorly to Mariah Carey's 'Love Takes Time' the next.

He laughs. 

Eddie finds himself doing this often with Richie. He could just be sitting there and Eddie would crack a smile at how unbelievable it would be that Eddie Kaspbrak is friends (and traveling the country, which Eddie still can't wrap his head around) with Richie Fucking Tozier. Eddie also thinks about how things would be if he and Richie were something more, potentially. He shakes his head at the thought and looks past the window. 

They're going places now, it's not just the landscape which looked similar all throughout, but drier in a sense. There are more green and city buildings, though nothing will be able to top New York so far. As they arrive in Ohio, they agree that it's pretty. Colombus may be bland, but it's so much for small-town kids. That following morning, Eddie awoke to Richies ongoing chatter, again. 

"You know? And I just feel like it- oh, morning, Eds," Richie said. Eddie found him lying at the foot of his bed. "Hey, Rich," Eddie rubbed his eyes and sat up, "Were you talking to yourself?" Eddie asked with a distant laugh.

Richie nodded, "Yeah, I can't keep my mouth shut, baby. You know how it works," he winked and walked over to his bed with a sigh. 

It was later than the usual time Eddie would wake up, ten AM. He wondered what was making Richie wake up early these few days, they would both usually rise from their slumber at the same hour. Maybe Richie couldn't sleep. Maybe Richie wants to go home but can't admit it, he can't admit a lot of things. 

"So, I was thinking," Richie began, his palms supporting his body from behind. "We should go to the Inniswood Metro Garden, I heard it's really pretty." 

Eddie listened, then nodded, "Sure. I want to take more pictures of you," he smiled with a squint in his eyes from the sun. 

Richie shook his head, "As you wish, angel face," he said. He kept his eyes off of Eddie, unknowing what would happen if he even came close to a glance. 

A few hours passed and they were on their way to the Metro Garden. Eddie drove, and Richies eyes were drawn to the sky above. The blue yet dismissive background and displayed thin white clouds. Cirrostratus, Richie remembers Mrs. Loyus teaching in his fourth-grade science class. He didn't understand what he'd use the information of clouds names for, but maybe for this moment. When he passes, he could be that cloud. Pondering and swaying over a corrupt world blissfully. Richie thinks when that will happen- tomorrow? In an hour? Who knows. But he does know he'll finally be at peace when the time arrives. 

The car sits in a sunny and empty lot, there are only three other cars. Immediately, it smells of grass as that's all that surrounds them with trees and flowers. "Aint see a sight like this since ya entered my life. Gorgeous, innit?" Richie says in a British accent, Eddies' favorite next to Ukrainian Drug Addict. 

It is gorgeous. The garden is green, an overwhelming amount of green. All the bushes are tended with care, the grass is cut evenly, the paths are clean, the tulips are spread and colorful, and the small gazebos have vines sprouting from inside and seep out. This draws Eddie back to his mothers garden. 

How opposite they were. Sonia would wait the last minute to water her plants before they died a sad and dry brown. She normally made Eddie do most yard work, saying how mowing the lawn would help grow muscles and he'd be strong- which was contradicting as she would cry how much he _needed_ her. Needed. 

"Eds," Richie says, bringing Eddie out of the trance. "Go over there. Wanna take more pictures," 

So Eddie does, he stands in the gazebo with his palms under his chin with a smile, fluttering his eyes as Richie takes the photo. It's a polaroid, and Eddie wonders why most of the pictures taken of him are physical copies. 

"Why are mine all polaroids?" Eddie asks as he steps out. 

Richie looks up from the camera and smiles in the slightest way he could muster, that was enough sarcasm for an answer. "I will not be your masturbation material!" Eddie says, snatching the photo from Richies hands. 

"Please, I have your mother for that," Richie dismisses with his hand. 

There are families that walk the trails, and couples hand in hand along the paths too, and there's Richie and Eddie, who ride each other's backs, race each other, hit one another, and it's fun. More than fun, actually. 

Eventually, they're sitting at the top of a small rocky stream, reaching and splashing handfuls of clear and glistening water at one another. 

"Did you ever like anyone at Derry High?" Eddie asks. He's sitting crisscross in front of Richie, as the rocks are separated for the stream.

"Mmm," Richie thinks for a minute, "Not that I can remember," he lies. "Maybe, like, Shawn Moran in Sophomore year," Richie chuckles, remembering the infamous quarterback _everyone_ was obsessed with. 

Eddie smiles, "Shawn Moran," he repeats dreamily, "He was a _vision_ ," he says and looks off into the distance, "Too bad that fight fucked up his nose," Eddie snickers. 

It's true, Shawn and Julio Massey got into a pretty big fight at the end of Junior year, he broke his nose and had to get surgery which made it look contorted in a sense, then many people shied away.

Richie hums in response, recalls being in the front with Beverly when it happened. "What about you?" Richie asks now running his fingers with the water. 

"Oh, yeah," Eddie shakes his head. He wants to say it so desperately. 

"Who?"

"This one boy,"

Then there's some silence as Richie waits for an answer. Eddie just doesn't know how to approach it. 

"I had been friends with him for a while," Eddie says.

"Have," he corrects himself, "I _have_ been friends with him for a while." 

He's got Richies' full attention now, even with the sun in their eyes. 

"You know, he's funny- like, really funny. He makes me laugh on any occasion, even in the worst scenario where it's not supposed to be funny. He cares... a lot. When I say a lot, I mean it, Rich. He's sweet. He's got this charm naturally in his heart and it makes me smile bigger and brighter every time- but _his_ smile, god. His smile can light up a room, he can light up anything. It's like he's brighter than the sun... I know he is. I see it in his eyes every moment I look into them. And he's cute? Richie, he's _adorable._ I'm head over heels for him, honestly. I like him a lot," Eddie rambles on and on, forgetting he's talking about Richie _to_ Richie.

"Even with stupid glasses that frame his face perfectly, you know? Or the stupid Hawaiian shirts and ridiculous tees under... oh shit,"

It's with that when Eddies' conscience comes creeping back to him, his face panicked and red. Richies' eyebrows have rocketed to the sky and his heart has gone six feet under. Then seconds pass with each other searching for something in the eyes of the other, fucking something. Silence. Utter and uncomfortable silence with flushed faces. 

"Wh-" 

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Eddie yells, scrambling to his feet and fumbling his shirt to a comfortable but anxious state. 

Richie follows the action of getting to his feet once he sees Eddie is trying to go somewhere. "Eds, it's okay," he comforts softly. When Eddie says those words and in that tone, Richie knows he has to do something to calm him down. 

"No! No, no, no, no! It's not okay, Richie. I just- fuck!" Eddie panics, he's now jumping down the rocks and back on the path, attempting to get far, far away from Richie. 

"Yeah, it is okay. Even if you just, like, confessed your undying love for me but," 

Eddie stops and glares at his remark. 

_Even in the worst scenario where it's not supposed to be funny_

He keeps walking at an unhealthily fast pace, a pace that will definitely sore his calves in the morning.

"Eds, cmon! Calm down, you're okay!" Richie yells as he's trying to catch up with Eddie.

Eddie wants this all to be over, that this was all a dream and his secret crush on Richie was never revealed. He feels like a fucking child running away from all of their problems. And he stops walking. He pauses in his steps in the middle of the trail. 

"You okay?" Richie asks once he finally got a hand on Eddies shoulder. 

_He cares a lot_

Eddie is frozen, like he's forgotten how to breathe for the first time in his eighteen years of living. He doesn't know how to speak anymore, he opens his mouth to say something, but he's just standing there stuck. 

"I... I feel like- _mph!_ " Richie is then cut off with Eddies hands cupping his cheeks and their lips connected. 

Eddie can breathe again, for the first time in... ever, he can breathe that fresh air he's been wanting to. It's not being filtered anymore, everything is clear; everything he could've ever wanted is in front of him. The kiss is sweet, Eddie decides. Richie tastes like the cigarette he had earlier that morning, he wonders how long that will linger. 

_I'm head over heels for him_

Richie's body feels like its caught flames, his veins are sparking electricity from excitement. They could stay like this forever, he didn't want it to end, but it did after three and a half seconds.

Eddie pulled back, his breathing shaky with his hands falling from Richies' face, who held shock. Richie's cheeks were pinker than they'd ever been, and Eddie promptly regretted it. 

_He didn't want it. I fucked up everything. You're a fuck-up, Eddie, you know that right? Fucking idiot._

"I-I'm sorry, Richie," Eddie blurts, backpedaling.

Richie shook his head hastily, "Hey, no, no, no, don't be," he said, hand reaching for Eddies' shoulder again. 

"Richie, you don't get it," Eddie almost cried out, everything choked in the back of his throat. "I'm so- god, you don't even like me back! I'm such an idiot." 

"Stop," 

Eddie looks up at Richie, thinking about everything he said about him and how right he was. Eddie wants to run. But Richie keeps talking. 

"You don't know that, especially when you've kept quiet," Richie said, staying in the same spot, the least he wanted was for Eddie to feel more uncomfortable than he already was. "You don't know everything I thought about all these years we've been friends. You don't even know that ninety percent of the time, it's you, and it's always been you, Eds." 

Eddie stood as still as a board, his throat ran dry and rough, unable to move or even comprehend what the fuck was happening. 

He shook his head, "You don't mean that," Eddie said, "No, no, you don't mean that. You don't have to say that to try to make me feel better," 

"I'm not, I mean it. Can you listen, please?" Richie practically begs, he doesn't know how they ended up here. 

Eddie hesitated, but nodded, trying to open his mind to whatever he had to say. Whether it was good or bad. And Richie talks and talks, his vulnerable state being it's highest. 

"If anything, I'm the idiot for not saying anything, Eddie. I've liked you so damn much, even if you bully me half the time. Because deep down, I know you. You're Eddie Kaspbrak with the biggest heart over anything and a smile that can be seen a mile away if you blinked. There is so much more to you I just- I'm really flustered right now," 

Eddie wants to walk away again. He knows none of it is true- that Richie never felt the same way. So he does, his feet hitting the gravel harder with each step, trailing regret. He can hear Richies calls through his own hitched breathing and warm tears. 

It's only soon Eddie is back at the truck, and it's not his so he's awkwardly waiting by the back tire for Richie to unlock it- and it feels like forever. Only fifteen minutes. 

The beep startles him, jumping back onto his toes as he comes to the perception the car is unlocked. Without a word, Eddie climbs into the passenger seat, Richie too. They sit in silence on the drive to the hotel. The tension is so thick, Richie wants to scream and bang his head on the steering wheel until he cries blood. 

Eddie wishes he were home, but the two are stuck in a car for the rest of the summer, and Eddie isn't going to force Richie thirteen hours back to Maine. 

He stares out the window, and his vision is soon clouded up with tears welling in his eyes, threatening to burst. Richie doesn't know what to do or say, his hands on the wheel in an effortless glide with the tires down the road. 

Then they're back at the hotel. Eddie leaves the car alone, he wants to feel the silhouette of Richie by his side but he _can't_ , because everything hurts too much. He doesn't know where Richie is going, but he hopes it isn't far. 

Eddie lays on his bed in silence, the passing of cars and the air conditioning along with his rough breathing being the only things audible. He stares at the ceiling and wonders where things went wrong, and if they were always wrong. 

Richie is sitting in his car in a grocery store parking lot. The radio is on the lowest volume it can be on. Richies' seat is reclined back as he stares to the sunset in front of him. 

There's a layer of colors, yellow, orange, peach, and pink, maybe some hints of red, too. It stretches wide across the land, wanting the attention of citizens to gaze at its beauty. The sun is going down, as slowly as it can, its rays waving goodbye to welcome the night, and until tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my fuck okay im soRRY ???


	8. confessing in indianapolis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> homophobic slurs and just nasty hets being mean im sorry :(  
> this was like 3k words and fOR WHAAATTT 
> 
> also i cant fuCKING SLEEP OIjoiG

Eddie lay on his bed with the books Mike let him borrow beside him, he'd read two already. Waiting for Richie was tiring. It'd been a few hours since whatever happened at the Garden. Eddie had nothing left, eating their packed food, reading, watching what was on the TV, listening to some of Richie's mixtapes. 

Above all, he wanted to cry. Cry in the comfort of the bed and question why he did that over and over again. 

Maybe his mother was right, maybe he _is_ sick. Maybe being gay _is_ an illness he needs to get over, and get over Richie. 

The ramble at the door drew him away from his thoughts, greeted by Richie swinging the door open, slamming it shut, and running to the bathroom. It all occurred so quickly, Eddie didn't know what to think about, just happy he was back for the least of it. 

The water spurted onto Richies face, taking deep gasps of air. He still had his clothes on, which he thought nothing of. Just clean, feel fucking clean. Richie never wanted to clear his mind of such a thing in his entire life. He refused to touch at his lip, but wiped his nose roughly with the sense of blood still leaking. The water was hot, an unhealthy temperature wanting to burn through his skin, sticking his clothes to his skin. Richie still had some form of brain cells to take off his shoes and socks before he entered- thank God. 

He wanted to scream. Scream so fucking loud the whole world could hear it. Richie took a deep breath and let out a loud and long groan while he tugged his hair back, squeezing his eyes shut. Shut them so you can't see anything. Block out all hearing and none of this happened. Oh, but it did. It played back in his memory on an endless loop, the eject button jammed.

_Richie swept the box of Marbolos off the counter with a thank you, nudging a man's shoulder accidentally on the sidewalk as he walked out of the gas station._

_"Watch where you're going, fucking fag," the man said with a scoff._

_"Huh? Oh, sorry, couldn't hear you over your moms moans replaying from last night," Richie said, taking a cigarette from the box._

_The man stepped closer and gripped the collar of Richie's shirt, "Say that shit again," he whispered, and his breath reeked of something Richie could put his finger on. Richie was taller by a few inches, but that man was clearly stronger and would beat his ass with one swing._

_"Your mom fucked me great," Richie added and a smirk appeared on his lips._

_Maybe if Richie didn't say anything like he always had to. He could've kept that big mouth of his shut and walked away, but no._

_Richie stumbled backward as the man pushed him by the grip of his shirt, hauled his fist in the air, and Richie prepared for the worst._

_The man's fist came in contact with Richies' jaw first, swinging back for another at his stomach three times, then at his nose and mouth in one hit._

_Richie spit blood on his knees, his hands on the concrete in front of him. He laughed a little at how unbelievable this was. The man then spat on his shirt, a purple one with light designs and a white undershirt._

_"That's where you fags belong, on your fucking knees," the man said with a final kick on Richies' side._

_Richie decided that hurt the most, the impact on his ribs and causing him to collapse onto his back. He lay there for a minute, tasting the iron on his lip and feeling suffocated by the blood coming from his nose._

_He forced himself up eventually, fighting the intense pain at his body. He would definitely bruise terribly. What would he tell Eddie? That he got in a fight with a guy? No, more so a man fought **him** for accidentally shoving him and running his mouth on fucking his mom. It was predictable. _

It was only until Richie turned off the shower when he realized how disgusting he truly was deep down. Being gay isn't normal, so what the fuck is wrong with him? He stripped his clothes off and hung them on the curtain rod to dry, wrapping a towel at his waist. 

He sat on the toilet and wrapped his hands around his head, and he cried. He cried soft sobs into the heels of his palm.

_"Fucking fag"_

_"Do you think that's normal, Richie?"_

_"Stop thinking those things"_

_"On your fucking knees"_

_Eddie Kaspbrak_

_Eddies hugs_

_Eddies laugh_

_Eddies smile_

_Eddies voice_

_Eddie Eddie Eddie_

"Hey, Rich," a voice from the behind door spoke quietly, startling Richie from his thoughts. "You... you okay?" he asked.

Richie looked up, imagining what Eddie looked like with worry smeared on his face. "Yeah," he sniffled, hoping the bleeding came to a stop. "I'm okay," he lied. 

Of course, Eddie wasn't convinced. "You don't sound okay," Eddie said with no hesitation, but his voice still soft. 

Richie sat quietly, lost with what to say. 

"Do you... uh... do you want me to come in there?" 

"No, no I'm okay," 

He sat on the floor against the door, grimacing at the thought of the carpet being disgusting. 

"We can talk if you want..." Eddie said, leaving the conversation open. Nothing on Richies' end was said, "I'm sorry," Eddie said when the silence between them was unbearable. 

"About?" Richie said hoarsely. He was leaning against the door, too. 

"At the... the garden," Eddie said, he shifted around a little. 

Richie had to think about exactly what happened at the garden before exhaling heavily. "Oh. You don't need to apologize," 

Eddie shook his head and tucked his knees to his chest, "I am. I don't even think I knew what I was saying, I expressed everything I suppressed deep down- things I shouldn't have. I didn't mean to get all mad and shut you out like that, I'm sorry. I just... I didn't know how to handle it. I didn't know where our friendship would be with that in the air." Eddie tipped his head against the door and sucked in some air.

"And even this ruins everything we had, I want you to know how much I like you- a lot, Richie. You're just this big highlight in my book, the boldest one, you know?" 

Then it was quiet. But it wasn't awkward, Eddie knew it was just Richie listening to everything he had to say. 

Richie was afraid. He liked his best friend, how do you deal with that? How was Eddie so brave? 

"Yeah," he said finally. "I get it, it's a mutual feeling," Richie admits. "How'd you do that?" he asks, trying not to let a chuckle out.

"What?"

"Say that. You're like- fucking Superman. You're so brave, Spaghetti." 

Eddie lets out a shaky laugh, still obvious tension in the air, but it's eased out. "Don't call me that,"

They're both silent, until Richie realizes he just has a towel draped over him. 

"I... uh... have to change," he manages, picking the thread of the towel. 

Eddie gets up and rolls onto his bed, forgetting everything that was pretty much said. He hears the door open, rummaging of a suitcase, the door shut, then a few seconds pass, and Richie is back out. 

"The fuck happened to your face?" Eddie bolts up from the bed across the hall to Richie. He cupped his hands over his cheeks.

Richie winced at the touch of his bruising jaw, where the first punch landed. His lip was busted, too, and traces of dry blood on his nose. "Are you serious?" Eddie demands. 

"Nothing, I fell," Richie lied, trying to get back into his bed. 

"Bullshit," Eddie protests, "Tell me," 

Richie shook his head, dismissing what happened not too long ago, "Don't wanna talk about it," 

He looked genuinely hurt at the mention, shoving past Eddie with his eyes down to the patterned carpet the entire time. Eddie left it at that, not wanting to poke at Richies' emotional and mental wound (and physical, if you will).

"Can you clean your nose?" Eddie asks, still standing in the gap between the two beds. 

"I did," 

Eddie scoffed and shut the lights off, rolling under his covers and shifting until he was comfortable in the coolness of the sheets. 

"Goodnight," Eddie said in the darkness. 

"Night,"

* * *

Richie hardly slept that night, being woken up at the sudden and sharp pains on his torso and face, and the bridge of his nose pulsating. He was surprised but glad to say his glasses weren't broken. 

"How the tables have turned," he heard near, with a smile in their voice.

Richie turned on his side and peeked open his eyes to see Eddie standing over him. "Come on, we gotta go," he says flatly, giving a nudge at Richies shoulders.

They leave and Richie learns that they're headed to Indiana, all while Eddie learns Richie can't drive for an unknown reason. It's a short three-hour drive, though it feels infinite with nothing said between them. Not knowing how to approach a conversation after their church-like confessions last night. 

Richie is sleeping in the passenger seat, one leg tucked close to his chest, and the other spread in front of him. The right side of his jaw is hidden in his t-shirt, and his hair is blowing softly with the air conditioning. Both arms are slivered around his waist, and his lips agape. _He looks comfortable,_ Eddie thinks during a pause in traffic. 

His eyes are drawn to a darker mark on his jawline, creeping to his cheek. It was purple, and it looked like it hurt badly. Eddie's mind could've wandered elsewhere into thinking it was a hickey, though it was obvious that it wasn't. Eddies played fair games with bruises himself, and seen hickies from Martha Gray in his chem class, a broad difference between the two. 

Eddie is desperate to know what happened, why his lip is swollen and scabbing, the bruise on his jaw and nose. The nose looks more painful with his glasses sitting endlessly on them. How do you recover from admitting a crush on someone you're spending the rest of your summer in a car with? Do you just... date them? It scrambled Eddies brain too much. 

He wants to reach and stroke at the purple mark with his thumb ever so gently, ask him what happened and that everything will be okay. Let Richie spill all his secrets and feelings in Eddies' arms because, quite frankly, Richie loves being cuddled and shown affection. 

Yet another hotel they arrive at. It lays on the outskirts of the city where most construction is taking place. 

"Richie," Eddie whispered once the engine grew quiet. "Rich, we're in Indy." he shoved him lightly. 

Richie groaned and tucked his face further into his shirt, "Hurts," he mumbled.

"What hurts?" 

"Everything," 

Eddies' expression turned soft and solemn, "Do you... uhm... want me to help you?" he asked. He's had plenty of experiences with injuries- not himself, he's cautious. But with Richie not explaining what happened, he doesn't know what he _can_ do, as much as he wants to help him. 

"Why are things the way they are?" Richie said suddenly, his voice clearer. "Why do I have to be the way I am?" 

"There's nothing wrong with you, what do you mean?" Eddie asked softly, his eyes still fixed on the bruise. 

Realization eventually got the best of Richie, turning him right back around to his old self. "Nothin' chap, ma brain is absolutely mad with no sleep," Richie said, unfastening his seatbelt quickly and hopping out of the car. 

Eddie had his suspicions, but got out of the car, locking it, and gripping their suitcases. It was a three-day-two-night stay mostly because they couldn't not be sore from sitting hours on end in a box. 

"Remember when Henry Bowers beat my ass Freshman year because I made a joke about his mom," Richie said amongst the silence between them, grubbing on room service food far too expensive from their pockets. Thank you, summer jobs the past four years for loading up their pockets.

"Are you talking about specific events or summing up the multiple ones?" Eddie asked, smiling through another bite of chicken tenders. 

Richie hummed, "Very clever, Eds," he said and turned the volume down on the TV. 

Through smiles and small talk, nothing, absolutely _nothing_ felt the same. It was the thick intolerable feeling of sorrow and desire and thorough regret.

"Do you think we'll stay like this?" Richie asked randomly, "The silence and tense uncomfortableness, I mean," 

There it was, another confession made by Richie 'Trashmouth' Tozier who talks endlessly about your mom, is thoughtfully speaking. 

Eddie swallows, "I hope not," he breaths out and crosses his legs beneath him.

"Do you think..." Eddie trails off and gestures between the two. "You know... uh..." he can't quite put the words together, but Richie hears him loud and clear. 

"Eddie Spaghetti," Richie says, "Is _the_ Eddie Spaghetti asking me out?" he asks incredulously. 

Eddies' face goes blank and pale when he hears it out loud, "Oh, I don't- I don't know," Eddie says and he feels like he could just about throw up right now.

More silence, leaving Richie speechless. _Did I really assume that? Perfect timing, Richie_ , Richie thinks to himself, wishing that guy gave him brain damage and he'd get amnesia and fucking forget. 

"Let's go to the speedway," Richie says after some time. 

They do, and its a blast. The cars race past the tracks at exhilarating speeds that they can almost feel from their high seats. Through popcorn and soda, all feels at peace, all feels like nothing is off speaking for the millionth time in their two day span. 

Yet, they know it's going to take time for when it's just them in a car or in a hotel room.


	9. entry 3, indy

_June I don't know, 98_

_WHAT THE FUCK_

_In Ohio Eddie kissed me and told me his crush for me then I kinda sorta did too and with the kiss I didn't not like it but it was so random I was like holy shit what the fuck is happening you know?_

_Now we're just in a really awkward stage where we both know the feelings for each other but not really mentioning it and I know he's uncomfortable and I'm uncomfortable with it so fuck what do I do?!?!?!?!?_

_I wish my mom was here and she could help me not feel so overwhelmed oh Jesus I miss her :(._

_I want to talk to Eddie and I feel bad because he looks so anxious and afraid and I'm like fuck I want to help you but I don't know how and I didn't even tell him what happened at the gas station and I don't plan on it because I personally can't even comprehend it so I just keep pushing it in the back of my mind and telling myself the bruises don't hurt and I know I shouldn't and I know if I tell Eddie he'll freak out and I don't want him to because he already seems so tense with everything that happened and he doesn't need that._

_If I was still in school, Mr. Terran would **not** be happy with my run-on sentences, yikes. _

_I don't know what to do whatever goodnight_

_\- Richie T._


	10. chicago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lowk a filler but its okay they're back to normal-ish they r trying their hardest okay ?

"We go up to Chicago," Richie says as he zips his suitcase closed. 

"Why don't we go to Springfield?" Eddie stands up and gestures with his hands, "It's like, a straight line," 

"I know what else is a straight line," 

"Richie," Eddie warns and narrows his eyes. He extended the handle of his case and leaned against it lightly, waiting for Richie to be done. 

"We're supposed to be traveling the country. Not rushing to the west," the taller boy says, and he waits for Eddie to open the door. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, he supposes Richie is right for the first time in his life. He doesn't even know what's in Chicago. Well, he doesn't know a thing about Springfield, either. Richie insists on driving, sympathizing Eddie for driving the last trip after he refused with no explanation. Plus, it was only three hours and they initially planned on driving down to St. Louis later that evening.

The Chicago streets were an interesting aspect of their trip. Most people look as if they're on heavy crack, the two didn't underestimate the wild nights. It was much like New York, the large buildings that grazed the edge of the sky. 

"Let's grayb some hawtdawgs, Spaghetti," Richie throws on his Chicago accent that unquestionably needs some practice. "That was terrible," Eddie shakes his head. 

"Oh, and you can do better?" Richie says, almost like a challenge and pulls into the Superdawg parking lot, it's a stupid name. 

The building is tall and black, big and red neon lights that say "Superdawg" in cursive. There are large and bold windows with white and blue diamonds covering slightly. And best of all, two weenies at the very top of the building, one presumably a girl with a blonde ponytail and a blue pleated skirt, and the other most likely a man with a yellow cheetah print leotard, sticking its muscles out. Fucking odd. 

Eddie clears his throat and adjusts his legs as if it'll help. "Hu-" he starts, but immediately falls into giggles. "Hu- shit, haw- fuck Richie Tozier and his stupid hawtdawgs," Eddie says. Richie doesn't know if Eddie was still trying before he said hotdogs, because he could still hear the echo of an accent somewhere. 

"Pained, Eds, truly pained," Richie puts a hand over his heart and tilts his head back with a smile, the most genuine smile in a few days. 

They sit in the car with two red boxes in hand, two malts between them in the cup holder, and fries, because Richie claimed he needed more. The hotdogs were more than interesting. Sure, the beginning looked like a normal hotdog with mustard and relish and onions, but then there are pickles. Pickles. Eddie nearly bursts out laughing because who eats a hot dog with pickles? 

"How do you even eat this?" Richie stares at his hotdog with confusion and surprise. These hotdogs weren't the most monumental thing they'd ever laid their eyes on; it was more than your conventional one with mustard and ketchup and maybe relish, not pickles and especially not on a poppy seed bun; they'd always been white bread buns. 

"You just... put it in your mouth?" Eddie took a sip of his strawberry malt, he prepared for the worst of things Richie would say after that. Richie snickered and picked at a fry from his box, popping it in his mouth and continued staring at the hotdog. 

"Are you gonna eat it?" Eddie asked as he clumsily picked up his hotdog on either side of the bun that left seeds on the pads of his fingers. "Yeah, it's just..." Richie trails and crunches on a pickles slice, "It looks _really_ messy," he says whilst chewing, covering his mouth with a chuckle. 

Both take a bite on the count of three, like they're eating a foreign bug. It's good. Great. Unusual, but gratifying. There's something about the mustard dancing along with their tongues that encourages another bite, and another. Before they knew it, the boys were slumped in their seats and sucking the life out of their strawberry and pineapple malts and to their stomachs into whatever room they have left.

The sky is still bright, they decide to take their drive down, and it is a glorious breeze of laughter and music. Eddie forgets about everything, so does Richie. Voices and Green Day seem to make ease. 

"We're gonna see 'em live one day, Eds, I know it!" Richie exclaims over 'Nice Guys Finish Last'. He's pounding his hands on the wheel and rocking his head. 

"What makes you so sure?" Eddie asks. 

"They're on tour right now! I think Arkansas is our best go," 

Eddie smiles. He never complained about Richie's music, but he never particularly loved it; there were a lot of things Eddie Kaspbrak loved about Richie Tozier. 

* * *

Illinois is dry, Richie concludes soon. The land is flat and filled with either dead grass or cattle. It was depressing, honestly. All of it looked like they had nothing going for them, a few scattered buildings here and there, but, there weren't even mountains to say the least. No satellite was even in range for the radio, just low static and replayed CD's and tapes. 

"Hey, Rich," Eddie began, "My ass hurts, can we pull over and stretch for a bit?" Eddie turned his head to Richies direction. 

"There's a rest stop soon, we need gas, anyway," Richie sighed, his elbow sticking out of the window. 

"Rich, please," Eddie whined. This trip was probably making him go insane, primarily with nothing happening. 

"Eddie, can you _please_ wait, we're only a few miles away." 

"My ass will fall off my body," 

"Whatever will I do?" Richie lifts his fingers sarcastically and turns to see Eddie's deep glare with his eyebrows furrowed, shifting on his side so his ass wasn't cramping as much as he complained it was. 

The gas station looked like something in a horror movie, to Eddie. Every building was meticulously deserted if they came across one. At least the pump worked. 

Eddie stood on the opposite end of Richie, looking out onto the road where one, two, three... three cars passed in a span of a few minutes, he'd expected far more. 

"Alright, Eds, let's get going," Richie says and clicks the nozzle back on the handle. 

They're both back in the car again, and it's not long until St. Louis. Richie didn't know what was coming for him behind the wheel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know what i was on to be writing a segment about cHIAGO FUCKING HOT DOGS


	11. saint louis zoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slurs again , richie goin thru it bae :/ but hes okay trust me

"Because the last time we did something with nature it wasn't a good day?" Richie teases from the bathroom, he's brushing his teeth vigorously. 

Eddie rolled his eyes like Richie could see him, that remark didn't please him. "I just think... I dunno, pick something," Eddie said, plucking at the hem of his shorts, frayed and all. 

"It _was_ a good day," Richie says and its followed with a spit. "At least when you confessed your love for me," he adds and shuts the sink off with a humored hum. 

Eddie wants to sink into the mattress and die there at the mention, such an unexpectedly insane day for the both of them; Richie especially after getting... well. He figures telling him off wouldn't be too bad, except it would. "Shut the fuck up," Eddie huffs, "Pick something," he says again more sternly. 

Richie walks out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Okay, okay," he raises his hands in defense, "Zoo. I wanna throw you in with the penguins," there's a smile that creeps upon his face and stretches to his eyes.

"I'll go anywhere you can't reach me," Eddie says as a matter of factly, raising his chin and picking at his nails. 

Sure, a zoo might seem like a fun activity. Naming tons of animals they hardly knew existed, annoying families until they want to speak with their mother (the ones not with them), or pleading an argument in front of their children to get the two kicked out. It's a fun concept they might test the waters of. Risky, but fun. Risky as in police might be involved for two boys being a nuisance. 

Richie frowns and thinks for a minute, gazing down at Eddie sitting on the bed. "Stay like that," he says, going over to where the two cameras sit at the desk, choosing the Polaroid as per usual. "Richie," Eddie whines and falls onto his back. 

After complaints of Richie saying "I told you to stay where you were" and Eddie defending himself by saying "I don't want a picture" then Richie begging and Eddie giving in, always. 

The picture is Eddie laying on his back with his knees bent up and his hands covering a goofy smile. The light couldn't pick up the tint on his cheeks, though. At least the angle was a nice shot with Richie standing tall above Eddie and nearly bumping his head on the ceiling. 

It's a small few hours of the late morning with chatter, Richie spinning in slow circles at the desk chair, rolly chairs were his favorite. 

"You wanna speed down the hall?" Richie asks, grinning with his elbows at his knees. 

Eddie made a confused face, "On what?" he asks. 

Richie nods to the chair he's sitting in. Rolly. Mhm. Eddie lolls his head to the side, "You've got to be kidding me," and that is the last sentence Eddie Kaspbrak is heard saying before he plops on the seat and is hauled out (with fair struggles) of their room. 

It feels like a roller coaster for a minute, the way the air pushes past your face, and your laughing so much at the speeds that make your heartbeat frantic. Until you realize your best friend is just pushing you down hotel hallways. 

Richie jolts and Eddie almost goes flying forward, thank God for grip. "What the fuck!" he pushes his hair out of his face and laughs. He feels Richie throw his head back in amusement, followed by loud laughing. 

"My turn!" he exclaims. It is unbelievable what a road trip does to you. 

Eddie is much faster than Richie, skidding corners like a Nascar driver on their floor and nearly slam into someone who works there. It's an older woman with an angry face. Lines between her eyebrows and her mouth a straight line. 

"Watch it, boys," she says sharply and her voice is lighter but fiercer than expected. 

Richie is holding back a joke but Eddie pulls him away before he can say anything. Eddie doesn't go as fast as he initially was, but Richie just decides on pushing Eddie softly through the hallway. His mind running faster than the speeds they were going at. And he's quieter, not good. 

_Watch it, boys_

_Watch where you're going, fucking fag_

_Say that shit again_

_On your fucking knees_

_Fag_

_**Fuck**!_

"You okay?" Eddie asks when the silence bubbles up. 

Of course, it's Eddie, it always is and it will always come down to him no matter what. Like he can read his thoughts. 

Richie hesitates, then hums in response, "Y-Yeah," he stammers. Not good, either. 

Back in square one is where they sit as they find their way back to their room. _314._ He resents the way things get to his head so quickly, things that shouldn't, things that can easily be swept under the rug. That's Richie Tozier's best go: sweeping things under the rug and dusting them off his shoulder like nothing existed.

"Animal time, baby! Let's get rollin'!" Richie says and speeds up his walk. 

* * *

"What if I grew a beard, what do you think?" Richie asks, peering to look at himself in the rearview mirror. 

Eddie shakes his head hurriedly, "No way in hell are you doing that," he says. 

Richie looks over at him for a quick second and thinks, even with his face scrunched up with the sun beating down on him, he's more than beautiful. There's nothing that could compare. Eddie Kaspbrak is sitting next to him as the most gorgeous person Richie has ever laid his eyes on. What's a synonym for "I'm so in love with you it physically aches"?

The zoo is humid and sticky, that's all there is to say about it. They pick up a map when they enter, figuring out where the tigers or giraffes are on this land. Layers and layers of sunscreen. Bottles of water. Electric fans are held in the hands of some people. Richie thinks they put extra heaters in this place for you to buy their shit because, realistically speaking, it's not _that_ hot. 

"Penguins, Eds!" Richie points to a glass barricade where children are lined up, watching the animals swim around. "You need help climbing over?" Richie asks when Eddie leans over to look at them. Nothing about the penguins is particularly mesmerizing, but they're there and one of the first few animals they see. 

Eddie shoots Richie a glare when his hands make a grab for his waist. It's a short stare before Richie says, "Tigers? They'll love ya, let's go," 

Most tigers are sleeping in the heat of the afternoon on a dry and grassy land. There's meat in the corner, probably it's lunch or something. Then tires that are torn up. Eddie remembers the first few hours on the trip they got a flat and how stupid it was. 

"How many stripes does it have?" Eddie asks, "I counted sixteen," 

Richie looks at the tiger carefully, maybe squints his eyes for precision. "Eighteen. definitely eighteen," Richie replies and rolls on his heels. "Eighteen?" Eddie doubts, "The fuck you get eighteen from?" he asks loudly and earns some glances from others. 

"Look," Eddie says and begins tapping lightly on the glass to keep track, "...sixteen, seventeen, eightee- oh, fuck you," 

Richie chuckles as Eddie realizes he's wrong, and when he crosses his arms over his chest in the most adorable way one could. 

There was no way the two could enjoy someplace without something going wrong, one way or another. Richie attempts at climbing over the fence to the gorilla exhibit. He thinks it's stupid because they're just as smart as humans, so why the fuck is there not enough coverage? Eddie is surprised by Richies' concern with the setup, he laughs to himself lightly. 

Zoo Patrol, security, whatever you want to call them, come catch him before he even has a leg over. They're led out of the zoo with giggles escaping their endeavored serious and disgraced faces. They couldn't help it, though, it was inevitable to get kicked out. 

They drive to a body of water, it looks so similar to the quarry back in Derry. The water appears clearer, but the mountain edge is a shorter fall. The air is crisp and fresh on the jump down, it makes you feel more and more alive every time you do it. The way your body impacts the water, unknown of what's below you. Though your brain trusts your body when your knees bend as you leap into the air, kicking and swaying your arms and legs in your surroundings to add levity and remind your heart that you're breathing, you're alive, you're aware, and you're in the moment living the most satisfying way you can. 

Richie will splash Eddie at uncertain times, then swim far away before Eddie can catch up. Eddie will scrunch up his nose when Richie takes a mouthful of water and squirt it from his mouth. Then Eddie will ride on Richies submerged shoulders and tug shamelessly on his curls to bring him up back up, causing Eddie to fall into the water backward in the least graceful way. 

It ends in Richies trunk again, like the beginning of their trip. Instead, they're watching the sun go down, not the stars. The colors match their nails, Eddie decides, and puts their hands up in level with the colorful horizon. 

Their hands are close, really close. Eddie can see the way Richies' fingers will twitch, so he stares and stares until his eyes can't take it anymore, and locks their hands together. 

Eddie wonders if Richie can hear his heartbeat quicken, because he knows Richies is. It beats through the pads of his fingers, pulsing faster and faster. He didn't know when he got lucky with Richie. He doesn't know when things will be the way he wants them to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just 2 boys in luv


	12. las cruces sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry i didnt update ive been grounded on and off its fucking weird and going thru sum shit but thats okay hope this is alright. ALSO ! they would be in arkansas at a green day concert except that was on July 13th and these dates r pushed back so what would they do in the meantime arGHH . i really wanted them to go to a green day concert !!!!!!!!!

A ten-hour drive to Texas, how boring. The cowboy state, Richie liked to name it. Never in a million years did they think they'd be in _Texas_ of all places. Dallas, to be exact. This was probably the hottest state they'd stepped foot in, and it wasn't at all pleasant. It was like the sun was a trillion miles closer than anywhere else. 

"How about... Six Flags?" Richie thought out-loud, boredom getting the absolute best out of him. 

Figuring out where to go next had been a haze. There was only so much you could do in a few months. "I don't want you throwing up on me," Eddie waved his hand around and closed his eyes to the air blasting in his face. 

Richie chuckled lightly and rested his elbow on the center console. "You'd hold my hand the whole way, Spaghetti," he teases. 

_I would,_ Eddie wants to say. "Never," he shakes his head, "I wouldn't even get on a roller coaster with you, you psychopath," Eddie turns again to the window. Eye contact was his highest worry after saying "I wouldn't hold your hand on a roller coaster- much less go on one with you" even though they held hands during the sunset less than a day ago. 

"I feel like you're lyin'," Richie puts a toothpick between his teeth (instead of a cigarette) in a Southern accent. Fitting. 

Eddie turned his head back to Richie already looking at him, and his stomach must've done something for the color on his cheeks to be really warm. He hoped it was just the sun. "What makes you say that?" he asked quieter than intended. 

Richies grin grew wider. "You, Eddie Kaspbrak, are the most predictable boy ever," he said with a glint in his eyes. 

The light turned green, making moments like these nonexistent. The little things did, things that got their attention back on track made them forget things said or done, and in a self-conscious, uncomfortable manner. 

Richie cleared his throat, "Watch the sunrise, Reunion Tower... Six Flags..." Richie let that last suggestion linger, considering that was what he wanted to do most. "God, we are not going to Six Flags. We don't have the money for theme parks," Eddie replied with a simple roll of his eyes. 

"Children two and under are free, I can stuff you in a stroller and call it a day," Richie says almost too casually. 

"We aren't even more than five inches apart," Eddie huffs, crosses his arms, and curls his legs up. Richie hums, like he's considering something.

"Well, I know something that _is_ more than five in-"

"Stop talking about your dick!" Eddie cuts him off with his hands in front of him. 

Richie knew damn well what he was talking about, but teasing Eddie was the most enjoyable thing this entire trip. "My, my, Eddie Spaghetti. Keep ya mind out the gutta!" he said- Southern accent once again- and nudged Eddies shoulder lightly. 

Eddie scoffed and returned to the position he sat in. Six Flags wouldn't be all that bad. Holding Richie's hand through the drop wouldn't either. Sure, they'd held hands plenty of times before, Richie especially with any of the Losers. These felt more intimate, mostly because of the Garden 'incident' and Richie constantly flirting. Even if he always did, it was different and felt like a slap on the face. 

"How about sunrise?" Richie asks and lifts his hands from the wheel like he's running out of ideas. He is. "I won't get up at the asscrack of dawn to watch the sunrise with you," Eddie said with a smile, because he knows deep down that he definitely would.

"You won't have to. We can switch off driving until morning and stop in New Mexico and sleep our brains out," Richie laughs at the last part. Because New Mexico wasn't too far away, then Phoenix, Vegas, Los Angeles, and maybe fit Oregon somehow.

Eddie hummed, "Bold of you to assume I'd drive at night," 

Richie groaned, "Then drive now," 

"Okay,"

Merging back into oncoming traffic after switching positions was difficult. With Richie screaming to Eddie he goes now or wait after that black sedan, or the next semi-truck. Eddie panicking and yelling back how he'd hit this or that, then eventually just saying fuck it and swerving into the lane. 

"You almost hit that truck!" Richie widened his eyes, his voice getting louder. 

"I wouldn't have if you stopped screaming at me and making me panic!" Eddie yelled and tearing his eyes for a split moment from the road. 

Richie sat up in his seat, "Maybe if you didn't complain about driving at night!" 

"Maybe if you didn't suggest sunrise,"

"Maybe if I didn't li-"

"I can't hear you," Richie cut Eddie off with a flick of the volume nozzle, shaking the car with bass. 

Eddie shook his head in disbelief, "You're so fucking immature," he murmured and took the next exit to a gas station. 

At the stop, Eddie called Mike, asking how they were and how much they were missed. He ended the call, then his fingers hesitantly pushing the numbers to his house phone... to his mother. 

It rang twice, then that same bittersweet voice answered. "Hello?" 

Eddies breath hitched, feeling his tongue go dry and his heart threatening to push out. "Mom? It's Eddie," he pushed out after seconds passed. 

"Oh," she breathed out sharply, Eddie could almost see the way her face would scrunch up. "When are you coming back?" was the first thing she asked. Eddie felt the hammering in his chest ease- ease in a way that upset him. Sonia didn't care how he was doing, where he was, if they were okay. She just wanted him back. But for chrissake, he was eighteen, a high school graduate, and it was _summer_. 

"I don't know. Maybe in time to pack up and get back down to California for college," Eddie nearly whispered, twirling with the end of the cord. 

"Eddie... Eddie, please don't leave me," Sonia's voice cried on the other line. Something in Eddie old him to have empathy, feel sorry, and come running back into her arms. Then a clear motive came, telling him he was his own person and shouldn't have been pushed around and manipulated and lied to all those years. He needed to be free. 

"Ma, I..." Eddie paused, looking back to the car at Richie, who sat with his head back lip-syncing to a song. There wasn't much left to say, anyway. Eddie let a final breath slip past his lips and hung the phone back on the hooks. 

He stared at it for longer than he should have. At the hot black plastic that reflected Eddies' heated face, with pink cheeks and furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips, sure it was hard to see, but he was there so clearly. It hurt. Maybe that was incohesive, he probably _always_ looked like that. 

Eddie walked back to the car with his head down and eyebrows still practically sewn together, fists at his sides. He sank into the sticky leather driver seat with a heavy sigh. Those hands unraveled and wrapped his hands over his face. 

"Everything okay?" Richie asked. 

Eddies shoulders rose, then fell with a jerk and a sob out his mouth. He didn't know the exact reason why he was crying, everything just weighed on him. Heavily. All was _heavy_. Like there wasn't an escape from his mother, she haunted his brain and trailed Eddie with lies and her whispers and screams. 

Richie was unsure of what to do with his hands, in his lap, or moving to his head. Does he comfort Eddie? Does he let him cry? Because maybe Eddie will take note of how ridiculous he's acting and stop crying; bottle everything back up with the cap screwed shut. No, he needed to let everything out. 

His sobs were quiet and light, like in a public room and everyone staring at him expectantly. Hiccuping breaths he didn't remember being as guilty and intense since... God, he doesn't even know. Eddies' hands met the top of the wheel, beginning to wrap his knuckles until they were white, fighting the urge to tear the leather off and pound until it breaks off. But it's been through enough. Richie leaned over and snaked his arms over Eddies' shoulders, keeping him grounded, his thumb rubbing small circles. 

Maybe he was being dramatic. Or maybe there was something genuinely wrong with him. All that mattered was that Richie was by his side, whether he knew what was going on or not.

* * *

They'd stopped in a ditch on the edge of Las Cruces in New Mexico. It was nearing five, with a sheer blue layer over the deep sky. The stars still sprinkled over, constellations fading out, and making room for colors and brightness. 

Richie is playing "Ed Is Dead" by Pixies for the kicks of Eddie yelling at him to turn it off, but he's moving his whole body with it, nodding his head along with the beat. Waiting for the suns arrival took longer than what was expected. Seconds passed like minutes and minutes passed like hours. 

"Turn that off," Eddie rolled to his side, seatbelt tugging at his hip. "Nope," Richie said, popping the _p_. He only turned it louder and rolled his window down, letting the breeze run through. 

Sunrises weren't as pretty as sunsets, but maybe a daze would catch you at the right time, save you from falling. "Do you think the sun, like... knows what it's doing?" Richie asks hazily. 

Eddie blinks slowly and a turn in his lips, "Definitely not," he replies, and it comes out slower and more thought out. Riche hums and looks at the sun peeking from the horizon, a white and yellow orb stretching upward. 

"What if it's looking at us directly and thinking, _holy shit, look at those hotties?_ " Richie says more as a statement, he's still looking at the streaks of orange and pink. It was harder to pay attention, though, with the blue becoming more and more vibrant. 

"Potentially," Eddie laughs. "The sun is obviously thinking of me though," 

Richie pursed his lip and scoffed, "No way, asshole," he said, completely opposite of his thoughts. Eddie frowned, "Fuck you," Eddie knew the difference between sarcasm and honesty. Richie was the definition of sarcasm. 

Before they knew it, two hours had strolled by, leaving the two boys snoring in their seats with spit pooling at the corners of their lips. Perhaps it was weird to see a car parked in a ditch as you drove by, and if you looked close enough to see some kids that looked dead asleep. Though you're human and pay unquestionably no mind to it. 

Being eighteen and sleeping in all day like never before, felt so incredible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4mSrGTMJVoC1bgDlPyEOdm?si=fQevQtGWSIah0jhOAenMqA


	13. entry 4, new mexico

_July something, 1998 because I know nothing at this point_

_"What are we" is my constant question._

_It's like whatever happened in Ohio just happened and we haven't really talked about it since._

**_HOW THE FUCK IS IT APPROACHED?!?!?_ **

_I want to ask him but I'm so fucking nervous and awkward and weird and I'll end up making a joke that isn't fitting and makes him uncomfortable and it isn't what I want. But how do I act okay when he holds my hand or the glint in his eyes or his unwavering stares that make me fall deeper and deeper into that pit of LUST. _

_But anyway. I'm going to UCLA, he doesn't know that yet. I don't know if it's weird if I'm like "hey I'm going to ucla because I want to be with you for the like rest of my life even if we'd be 300 miles away it's better than 3,000"_

_Fuck_

_It definitely is weird._

_We're in New Mexico, I'd much rather prefer the old one. There isn't much to do here. It's really boring. Theres only, like, a national park a few hours away and fucking DESERT. DRY DESERT. We found an alley with a rainbow painted and Eddie insisted on taking a picture in front of it._

_How is he just so perfect._

_I dunno how to cope with this stuff._

_\- Big T._


	14. gila national forest

Perhaps summer wasn't the best time to go hiking in New Mexico. Any other season would be just fine because it's hot. Everywhere they'd been has been hot, but. Dear God, it was summer for the billionth time, who were they kidding with damp hairlines and full blast air? 

The two sit in a hot spring at the national forest, tucked deep away. It's big, and it smells like pine all around them. The water is very clear, glistening the suns reflection in waves and bits of chrome shapes swirling. Eddie wants to reach down and clasp his hands around the water, collect whatever liquid crystal decides to become solid, somehow. 

Richie stares for a second, admiring the twinkling glow of the water and the way it shimmered on Eddies skin. His thigh grips stopped after Ohio, considering... yeah. It is quiet for a moment, the small sound of water sloshing and birds humming. 

"Your glasses are fogging up," Eddie points out after some time. He wants to reach up and smudge it off, or take them off, either way the air would be far too tense. 

Richie snaps his head up, giving a lost look before breathing out and wiping the lenses lazily. "Oh," 

Eddie's eyes look soft and his lips are pink. Like, pinker than usual. Richie doesn't want to pay attention to that. "Why don't you just take them off?" Eddie asks, and his voice is a little rough from not talking. "Then I can't see you," Richie replies, in which a way that could be taken two ways. 

Minutes pass, and Richie is floating on his back in the quaint spring. His eyes are closed and steady breaths escaping his nose. The sound of movement in water becomes sharper, closer. Richies eyes open, and is welcomed with nothing but that fog returning. A weight lifted from his face, his vision still blurred; vivid and more transparent. He just closes them again. 

"Told you to take your glasses off," Eddie says quietly with a chuckle creeping between the words. 

Eddie moves around again to rest against the rocks and beneath a tiny waterfall. It was hardly a waterfall if nothing much came from it, sprinkling a few drops, but the wash of white outlines above said differently. 

"I love this," Richie says dreamily. Eddie moves his shoulders around, "What, not doing anything?" he asks. 

Richie sits back up, blinking hastily at the sudden change in his sight. Eddie reaches for his glasses at the ledge, at placing them over Richie's face once more, slowly. There's more blinking, and Eddie staring with his innocent eyes that make Richie want to scream his lungs out. 

"This," Richie repeats. And the two are extremely close. He means to gesture everything around them. He means this road trip. He means _Eddie_. But none of it comes out the way he wants it to. It's so juvenile, it feels like they're thirteen again sharing a hammock, exchanging glances at the wrong time when they didn't want the other to know they were looking at them. And the more Richie thinks about it, the more of a reality it becomes. The reality of knowing. 

Eddie licks his lips and just fucking stares at Richie, taking in every little detail. From his freckles, to the gold spikes in his eyes. Richie does the opposite, actually. He follows the action of licking his own, but, looks down at Eddies lips. The mistake slips out, but it was only a reflex of sorts, the hammering in his chest only fueling his inability to keep his cool. 

There's a moment where it feels like they are both lying on their backs, floating. But not in the water, it feels like mid-air and in the clouds. And yet, salt is keeping them afloat. 

Eddie subconsciously moves forward slightly, rising pink to their cheeks. "That's vague," he says quietly, bringing his hand up near Richies' face, the face that his heating up and an attempted poker-face with a steadied breath. 

"Marcy!" a sudden voice says not too far. The boys jump back and separate, clearing their throats and coughing. A man emerges from the trees far away, a beer-belly spilling over his swim trunks with a towel draped over his shoulders. "Hurry over!" he calls behind him.

"Well! Hi, boys! Some company we got here," he says with his hands on his hips. 

"Oh, we were leaving anyway. Enjoy it," Eddie shakes his head quickly. He ascends to their stuff first, drying off his body before throwing a t-shirt that will still cling to his damp waist. He doesn't even bother his trunks, slipping on his shoes and booking it on the trail again. 

Richie wasn't too far behind, catching on quickly but being just as confused as the man they'd met. Eddie's legs moved faster than his brain back to the parking lot, leaving Richie to practically run after him. 

When they're in the car with the windows rolled down and music playing at a normal volume, Richie still tries to act like nothing happened. "You wanna get ice cream? We can touch base with Albuquerque," Richie says as the dirt and mountains fly past them. 

"Stop doing that," Eddie almost whispers into his knuckles. 

Richie turns for a second, his eyebrows furrowed, "What?" 

" _That_. Fucking stop," Eddie says again. He could be implying the tapping on the wheel, or his constant talking, but he means his causality with everything. As if nothing happened and you move forward. How he can keep a conversation going even after the most awkward and embarrassing thing happened. Because Richie didn't care, Eddie did. 

"You're being... _vague_ ," Richie says, he puts emphasis because that's what Eddie had said back at the hot spring, he found it funny watching Eddies face heat up all the while his nose and spilling words he probably doesn't mean.

Eddie rolled his eyes, "Stop. Please," 

That's all it took. Richie Tozier shutting his mouth and turning the radio a little higher, numb out his thoughts with a song he probably knew. He had wanted to ask what was wrong, but it was clear in Eddies' eyes and all the mistakes he'd done came crawling back to him. Eddie wanted to know what the fuck was wrong with him himself, like why he shut down like this. It was clear he really liked Richie. He wanted to talk and express his feelings about this, but it was hard. With a billion thoughts pacing at once, you can't focus and a single thing. 

* * *

The tramway that happens to be nearly seven thousand feet in the air, also happens to save Eddies words, ironically. The cart is empty, just Richie and Eddie in there for almost thirty minutes. Trees are masking below them left and right, it almost looks like everything is, quite frankly, nothing. Like the world that surrounds them is a white canvas and they're a microscopic black dot. Bold from the rest. You might see them on the crowded streets of New York and look at them longer than you should, because they stand out. Again, bold.

Eddie is sitting with his ankles crossed, Richie swinging himself around the poles, humming to something in his head. He stops, looks out the window, and at Eddie. He sits across him, thinking he'd push whatever if he sat next to him.

"What-uh..." Richie says, scratching the back of his next once Eddies eyes darted up. "What were you thinking? At the hot spring?" he asks, no malicious tone, that's the least he'd want. 

Eddie sucks in some air, leaning back and folding his arms over his waist. There's a moment he opens his mouth, and words get caught, he sighs. Richie looks down at his feet, thinking for a moment on what to do, what to say, and if he should even be considering doing anything. 

"Did you... did you want to kiss me?" he asks quietly. His own shoulders tense at the sound of the words becoming an actuality. 

Eddie ducks his head further, then turning slightly to see the endless forest below. He knew the answer, of course, but nothing could bring him to admit it- even if he had kissed Richie before. And Richie kissing Eddie on his cheek that didn't mean anything, he did it with everyone he loved, that being their friends.

"It's okay if you did. I just-"

" _Richie_ ,"

"What?" 

He scoots closer to Eddie, slower this time. He wants to put a hand on his back and tell him it's alright to be vulnerable, it's alright to have these feelings, it's alright to be human, and for kicks, it's alright to be in love with the hottest boy ever. In which, Eddie would force a smile. Richie just wants to see him smile and light up a room.

"You afraid to like the hottest boy ever?" Richie slips, and there it is, the smile that isn't real or sincere and it doesn't reach his eyes. "I don't want to make things weird," Eddie says and looks back at his hands. He knows he shouldn't pick at the skin surrounding his nail, but its a habit, a habit he inherited from Richie.

"How would it be?" Richie asks. His eyes are still focused on Eddie, even if Eddies aren't. There is nothing that a hundred big square-built men or more could ever do to get Richie to stop looking at that fucking boy he's so drawn to.

"I don't know. How does that like, work? How do you know?" Eddie asks, he's gesturing with his hands to get the point across, but words aren't enough.

Richie squints his eyes, trying to take in everything Eddie said carefully, dissect the words and help. There is a moment where they both stare at each other, and Richie finds they do that a lot, a lot more than he would've noticed. Then Richie is leaning closer. 

Eddies eyes flutter as Richies close, his face nearer and nearer. And Eddie follows, closing his eyes and parting his lips slightly and moving in since until their lips touch. There's a small jolt at the sudden feeling, then melting into it. That marks two. Two kisses that were fifteen hundred miles apart. 

The kiss is different than the first one. There's soft hands in hair, and harsh hands on a back of a neck. It's more enjoyed, slower, no one pulling away. Until Eddie needs air, that is. His hands are still in Richies' hair, eyes wide and lips agape because _holy shit it happened again._ He licks his lips and feels laughter bubble in his throat.

Richies' lips are pretty swollen and his eyes look bigger behind his glasses than they normally would be. He raises an eyebrow and the corner of his lip tugs into a smile. 

"Not bad when you don't freak out, huh?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short but hUH !~^%# vague is my motto bae


	15. entry 5, new mexico

_JULY SOMETHING 98_

_I KNOW I DID AN ENTRY LIKE A FEW DAYS AGO BUT HEAR ME FUCKING OUT OH MY GOD. SO the hot spring or whatever know oh haha fun swimming and he's staring at me and I'm trying not to drown myself so I avoid him and he's messing with my glasses and flirting a fucking lot but you don't see me complaining now do you. THEN he's like moving closer to me and we're not that far apart and then he's tHIS CLOSE and a guy comes and ruins it._

_Eddie ran off and like I almost lost him how the fuck his legs move so fast??_

_So in the car on the drive up to Albuquerque, he's like asking me to stop talking and I'm like babe that's what I'm known for the fuck. He was still quiet and looked really tense on the tram and I tried talking to him about it but he didn't so I put my big boy pants on and kissed the muthafucka. When he pulled back I was like oh shit I really did that._

_But now I'm like where do we stand?? These stupid ass timezones got me fucked up I can't sleep!!!!! And this is all I'm thinking about. Like we are just friends who mutually like each other and hardly mention it and who have kissed twice? For being inexperienced he's a pretty good kisser, but you didn't hear it from me._

_I don't want to make him uncomfortable by asking what we're doing and what... like... we are, yknow? I don't know if he'd even want that._

_Anyway, I called my mom when we got back and she's really excited I chose UCLA but sad and I don't want her to be sad because we're like thousands of miles away._

_I miss my dad telling me to clean his car or mow the lawn and I thought I'd never ever say that._

_But hey, if Eds n I are both gonna be in California I see nothing to complain about. I am very much excited._

_How do you ask someone your place in your relationship- friendship- your fucking place okay??_

_I would be on the phone with Bill or someone but it's like 5 am over there. This sleep shit is not good for me, especially if we're just driving driving driving._

_Goodnight bitch_

\- _RT_


	16. phoenix

What Richie Tozier learns about Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona, is that there isn't much you can do. Other than desert landmarks and sun burning dirt if it's possible. So trying not to throw up from the heat and sleeping in for the next few days feels like their best bet. 

"Eds," Richie mumbles into the pillow. The curtains are drawn closed for the sake of their comfortability. 

"Hm?"

"You wanna talk about what happened the other day?" he asks. It's hard to hear with the pillows smushing his mouth together and turning his words to blubber. 

Eddie paused for a minute, thinking it over. What _did_ happen? Impulsivity? Did he just want Richie? Yeah, he really, really liked him. Loved was far too extreme, especially for this moment. Sure, he loved him as a friend, but the L-word was something so socially constructed into believing something. Maybe you didn't have to say the words- or fuck, maybe you did.

Eddie would tell Bev he loved her, or to Mike and Bill, because he meant it, because he truly felt that way about them. He and Richie never said it to each other, not those three words. Maybe they both knew why deep down, but it never was a nail in their brain and making them think. It was always Richie saying "You love me," or "You love it," and maybe Eddie did. But he never knew what the fuck to do with it. 

There's a hum in consideration that rises in Eddies throat, "I just don't know what... I don't know what we are," he admits quietly. 

He thinks Richie had fallen asleep because he's silent, small heavy breaths. "Whatever you want," Richie says, and no, that's not the case. As selfish as it may seem, he wants a part in say, he wants to tell him what he would want too. But Eddie comes first in Richie's mind. Always has and always will. If Richie was on his deathbed, his immediate reaction would be: _God, I know this would break Eddie's heart._

"Well, you need to say something, too," 

_Thank you._

Richie sat upright, reaching for his glasses and blinking at Eddie a few times. His words were stuck, he could hear his thoughts being backed up by another and another but, no. None of them could be said.

"We don't have to be boyfriends if you don't want to. Or if you do, it doesn't have to be labeled that," Eddie adds. And it's that word that sends shivers down his spine. 

He's quiet for a moment, searching for something in Eddies eyes. "It can be," he says and it comes like a whisper. 

Eddie goes blank at the confession, like he'd been in by a train or something; wide eyes and eyebrows raised with pink cheeks. His cheeks were always pink around Richie. "Are- uh, are you, uhm, are you sure?" he stammers and blinking rapidly.

There's a quirk at Richies lip that soon turns into a wide grin. "Yeah! Fuck yeah, dude" he exclaims with a nudge in his shoulders, a pep in his step. He tries to not think about the thoughts that constantly run back and forth. The rejection. The hate. But Eddie fucking Kaspbrak is basically his boyfriend, and it sounds and tastes foreign.

"Dude," Eddie echos. 

* * *

Phoenix consists of hotel pictures and giddy smiles, really. A lack of motivation and energy lurks around them, the two let it linger until their tanks are filled again. They don't pay attention to the fact there is an outside world filled with hate over love. It doesn't matter.

"No! It-" Eddie tries to argue against Richies' claim, but falls into giggles. "It does not mean that," 

Richie rolls onto his stomach and props up on his elbows. "Then what does it mean?" he asks, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically.

Eddie looks around for a moment, then looks back at Richie, smiling. "Okay, whatever, you win," he says. Richie pumps his fist in the air and bites past his bottom lip. "I always do," Richie says cockily on his back. 

There's small chatter and humming from the TV that neither of them are watching. Living in California would be hard, considering how expensive the state was and college. It was probably unrealistic for Richie's mindset to be "I'm going to UCLA because I want to spend my life with you," because maybe Eddie didn't even want Richie to go with him. 

They checked out a few museums on their last day in Arizona, none of which actually caught their eye enough to think: _Oh, that's cool. Who made that? What is that?_ They really just held their breaths and made voluntary jokes. 

So, on the road to Vegas, they make up for the conversations they didn't have during their sleep. "What do you think is in Vegas?" Eddie asks with his elbow peeking out the window. It's darker now, dark enough for the moon to be seen and stars welcomed by the sun. 

"Casinos, I know that, and strippers," Richie says, something in his tone on the last word makes him laugh. 

Eddie huffs a small laugh, he wonders what the lights will look like up close, the different people, all the places they can't go to because they aren't twenty one. "What about you?" Richie asks, "What do you think is in Vegas?" 

"Alcohol, a lot of it," 

It makes sense, they'd just have to see for themselves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should really write during the day instead of at 2 am because it gets so shitty !!!


	17. las vegas, nevada

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i live in vegas and i wrote this the way i see it lol . for being a local im literally never down by the strip so i have nothing to say ??? i honestly just took what i saw from my moms vhs from the 90s and what i know lol
> 
> mentioned underage drinking and its v unrealistic but its vegas so what is realistic here anyway

Twinkling lights and neon cups, patterned carpets and big slot machines, Las Vegas, Nevada. There's something about the city that makes you feel like you could do anything, except drink and do drugs and watch strippers dance half-naked. 

Though, during the day it's different. It's dry and brown, boring and hot like any other city. Nighttime is the prime time for Richie and Eddie to wander around, explore mirrored gold streets. 

They visit Fremont Street, inspect every little store that sells hats or shirts, they buy a few, too, and look ridiculous. Richie is wearing a silver cowboy hat with glitter all over and Eddie is wearing pink heart sunglasses. They're running around Las Vegas down the strip and past construction and gold buildings. There isn't anything they'd trade for this moment. 

"New York- New York, Eds! There's a roller coaster!" Richie exclaims, tugging Eddies wrist to the opposite street. 

The drop is steep and quick, and a lot of screams trail in front and behind them. And just as they expected, there's a lot of posters of (half or not) naked girls advertising strip clubs. Sex Culture, it sells. M&M factory, and they purchase far too many than they can eat. They enter only a few casinos, unable to do anything because you can't gamble. That's one of the shitty things about Vegas, that there isn't a lot you can do to have fun here, even if you come at your own free will. 

But the casinos smell like heavy cigarettes, they leave a few minutes in because Eddie said it was impossible to breathe that in. And he's ninety percent sure, that if you scrubbed the carpets until the smell emerged, you'd be left with orange-brown water. Fucking gross. 

Richie takes a picture in front of a cluster of buildings with a big smile that pales out his entire body. He puts his glasses on top of the hat, they reflect the flash far too much. Eddies' picture is him in the same spot Richie was in, but with the glasses tipped further down his nose and a sassy pose. They laugh about it afterward.

"I really, _really_ want soda right now, Rich. I'm _parched_ ," Eddie says, pulling Richie into a McDonalds. McDonalds is a staple on this trip. There's some valley-girl slur in his tone that really is hilarious, Richie figures it's on purpose to fit the whole "west side" theme, or maybe he's just high off bright lights and pretzels. A lot of pretzels.

He orders a coke, considering they never had a wide range of beverages to offer. They sit at a booth in the corner, Richie scarfing down fries, and Eddie still drinking his coke. "What do you wanna do next?" Eddie asks, "It's only," he looks down at his watch for a second, "Ten sixteen." 

Richie leans forward, "We've been walking around for three hours?" his eyes wide and questioning. 

Eddie nods and takes another sip. "If we had fake ID's, we'd totally get into those strip clubs," Richie adds and earns a smack on the shoulder. 

"What good is this city, anyway?" Eddie asks. 

"I dunno, I wonder what it looks like during the day," 

They were supposed to leave what would be that following morning, but another day couldn't hurt. Except, it would. Traveling the city that didn't look any special compared to other cities during the day with the sun pounding on you, forcing sweat and panting and the desperation for water out of you. Then, you get into bed and absorb every bit of coolness that will only be taken over by heatwaves and the fear that if you uncover your legs, something will get you. 

"Is that... is that a fucking lion?" Richie asks once they leave. It's a blocky image of a lion at the MGM. 

"Yeah, dumbass," 

"Hey! How would I know?" 

"I mean, you have the bulkiest glasses to help with your vision, I would only hope they'd be doing something." Eddie turns to face Richie and walks backward on the sidewalk. He ended up bumping into a lady, to say the least. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Eddie whipped his head apologized quickly, ignoring Richies laughs. 

"Don't be, honey!" she says, dismissing with her hand and gripping the pink cup in her hand. She was far shorter than Eddie, maybe five-three or five-five, but she had the softest heart. She had to have been mid-thirties to early forties, regarding her deep blue dress and chunky highlights. 

"You two look really young to be walking around here..." she points out, eyeing the both of them. 

"No worries!" Richie comes forward and puts two hands on the back of Eddies' shoulders, massaging them a little. "The ladies back home are nothin' like the performers here, if you know what I mean. Just openin' my lad's eyes," Richie says with a smile, the Voice being either Southern or Australian. 

The lady looks at them with raised eyebrows and pursed lips, nodding slowly. "Okay... well, my husband is back up at the hotel in Caesers Palace if you boys want to join," she offers. 

Of course, Eddies' immediate reaction was they were getting kidnapped and they needed to get the fuck away from this lady. "My girls are up there, too. We- uh- wait, how old are you two?" she asks, preparing to take back all her words. 

"Twenty-one," Richie says immediately. Eddie closed his eyes and formed a tight smile on his lips, "Yep, twenty-one," he repeats. 

Her smile brightens, "Oh, please! You boys look at _least_ seventeen." Close enough. "We have the hard stuff, you know, my girls would love you guys. Y'all wanna come up?" 

Eddie looks taken back, looking up at Richie who had that shit-eating grin as always. Great. "Is that alright?" Richie asks, looking down at Eddie and nudging his shoulders the tiniest bit. 

"Of course! My name is Teresa, you can call me Terry if you'd like," she says and leads them over to wait for a cab.

Richie is excited. He's done many stupid things, but, risking them getting kidnapped in Las Vegas has to be the stupidest amongst stupid things Richie Tozier has ever done. Eddie on the other hand, is fidgeting with his fingers, thumbing Richie's knee, moving his hair a lot. Nervous, basically. Because apparently he's the only sensible one here. But Teresa doesn't seem to have any malicious intentions. But dear God, that's how all kidnappers act! The thought only makes his palms sweat more and heartbeat faster in the backseat of a fucking taxi.

The room is bigger than the one they're staying at, given it's a casino and theirs is a Holiday Inn. There's a man in the corner near the window on a chair, something in his hand, laughing. And two girls on a bed in tank tops and short-shorts laughing, too. 

When they walk in and feel eyes on them, the least Teresa could do was introduce them, not chatter with her husband. A girl with jet-black, straight hair looks at Richie and says, "Hey, what's your name?" 

"Oh... uh... Ri- uh- Richie," he answers and feels a little stupid at his stutters. Richie keeps drawing his eyes down as the girl smiles and bites her lip. "Richie," she echos. 

"And what about you?" she asks and turns to Eddie. 

"Eddie," he answers haughtily. 

She smiles, "I'm Valarie, and that's Erin," the girl with black hair says, nodding to what looks to be her sister with light brown hair

Richie waves lightly, but feels uneasy with Eddies eyes burning into his face. "Come sit!" Valarie says and pats the spot in front of her. 

They do, and they sit uncomfortably with the inability to make each other laugh or hold hands. "So, where are you guys from?" Erin asks and leans to lay on her side. 

"Maine," Richie replies. 

"Oh, gosh, that's so cool," Valarie says and pushes her fingers lightly on Richies' knee. 

It definitely isn't cool. 

Erin takes a swig of something in a can that has blue and pink lettering, before offering the two a can. They say yes. It's bitter with a tangy apple hint hidden somewhere. Almost like what nail polish remover smells like, but taste. 

"How old are you guys?" Valarie asks, her tone getting more and more flirty by the second and it drives Eddie actually insane. Like, he'll jump out the window with no hesitation insane. They're pretty, too. That only damages Eddie more with Richie giving into the conversation. 

"Eighteen," 

"Same here!"

Richie nods, like it isn't so much of a surprise. "What about you, Eddie?" Erin asks, as if she wouldn't know the answer either. "Eighteen," he answers and it comes out a lot harsher and more forced than he expects. 

Fuck it, it's Vegas. Eddie decides soon. 

They walk the strip a little more, enjoying Fremont and the music playing. The girls are still talking endlessly and Eddie is still clinging onto Richie. "What even brings you guys from Maine?" Valarie asks, she talks a lot. 

"We graduated in June, thought it'd be fun to take a trip across the country," Richie answers because Eddie is refusing to unless questions are directed to him. 

Erin turns around from her spot in front of them, "You guys gotta be real close for it just to be the two of you." Eddie nods simply.

"Anyway, you guys got girlfriends back there?" Valarie asks, and of course, she would. She's a snobby rich bitch vacationing in Las Vegas with her drunk parents and sister who isn't any better. 

Eddie looks up at Richie who has an arm over his shoulders. Richie raises his eyebrows expectantly, "Ye-yeah. yeah, we do." he says and hopes it eases Eddie a little. It does, slightly. That only reduces the chances of Valarie wanting to bang Richie from ninety to sixty. "I bet," Erin says. 

Her words sound sarcastic in a sense, like she knows something. No way, she's just as tipsy as her sister whos dense as fuck. But... does she? I mean, considering the way Eddie is hooked on Richies' arm, or whispering things in his ear when the girls are turned around and hushed giggles. Erin could think it, she would just never know the truth. Maybe Erin just doubts the fact anyone would want to date either of them. Ouch. 

They have phones, which only comes to prove how much money that entire family has. Derry didn't even have a tech store, that was in Portland, and no one wanted to drive to Portland for an individual to have a box filled with wires. 

Valarie insists on pictures, to "remember my new friends". The four of them pose by lights in the midst of crowds when they asked a random man to take the picture. Eddie is wearing Richies hat and Richie is wearing Eddies glasses, the girls find some chunky, plastic, gold necklaces, and baseball hats. 

They wind down eventually, guessing that Valarie's urge and goal to fuck Richie left at some point walking in Fashion Show Mall when she mentions a Macy's worker. Eddies nerves have eased, too, knowing Richie would stay at his side. It's later in the night, but the streets are still filled and lights are still bright. 

"How long have you guys been friends?" Erin asks. She's more invested in their friendship than anything, it's almost comforting. 

"For nine years, I think," Richie says, jumping over the sidewalk cracks with little to no effort with his mile-long fucking legs. 

"Oh, wow. I could never hold a friendship for that long," she says and takes another gulp of water, neither know where she got it from or when. 

There's some silence, only some faint music and car tires hushing against the road. Then Erin is pulling a box of Marlboros from her pocket and offering them one, to which they both reject. Jesus, do their parents let them do anything they want? They could be on a PlayBoy magazine and their parents would support it fully. 

* * *

By the time they split their ways and Richie and Eddie go back to their hotel, it's two seventeen in the morning, they're exhausted. Vegas couldn't be that bad, they made friends they probably wouldn't see again that lived in Miami. 

Whatever, maybe they'll come back when they're twenty-one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was hard to write because there were things that weren't open , like the bellagio didn't open until later that year , the high roller wasnt open until like 2014 shit like that


	18. california

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please stay safe  
> 5/29/20

When the car passed "Welcome To California", it felt like the end of a new beginning. Clapping and cheering and near tears that they crossed the country. There was no way they did it, it was all a dream, it had to have been. 

They probably overestimated Los Angeles and it's beauties, they expected Beverly Hills, Hollywood, fame, beaches... a grey city was close enough. Richie suggests they go to the Santa Monica Pier, and when they do, it's nearing sunset. 

It's just the two of them with families running around. Eddie wins Richie a green monkey. The smell of salt and popcorn around them is surreal, they hardly even look down at the beach. The beach that is crowded with people, and the boardwalk creaking with each step. There's a yellow rollercoaster they get on immediately, but it's nothing like the one in Vegas. A Ferris Wheel, too, and the cart they sit in is swinging, and they're holding on for dear life while laughing their lungs out.

When they leave the pier, the sun is nearing the horizon by the second. Small plushies are filling up Richie's maroon backpack, supporting the two cameras they have not let go of since Portland. "This sand is up my ass," Richie says as he leans back onto his elbows. 

Eddie grimaces, "Gross," he muttered. But who was he to talk? The sand was sticking to his thighs and unfortunately up his ass, too. "You're really staying here, huh?" Richie says, more as a statement than a question. He doesn't look at Eddie, too afraid he wouldn't cut the tie with the rope keeping them attached.

They're under the pier, under the big scrambling crowds, leaning against pillars and watching the sun reach lower in the shade where the water is cold. "Yeah, I guess I am," Eddie said, followed with a sigh, "I don't even know how I'll do it," he rubbed the tip of his nose and distractedly dusted the sand off his knee. 

Without thinking it through, words came spilling from Richie, "We can do it together."

And he didn't even register his own words before Eddies eyes widened questionably. "What do you mean?" he asked. Richie sort of stared at him, his mind going blank. "Oh, yeah. I'm staying," Richie said casually, he'd forgot to tell Eddie. 

"No shit! Really?" Eddie said, feeling a smile creep on him, eyes flitting all over Richie. 

Richie shook his head slowly, reminding himself of the constant thoughts of: _what if he doesn't want me with him?_

Eddie sort of stared at Richie, unable to say anything, honestly. Then that smile takes over, crawling between the small space to pull Richie into a hug. It's a deep hug too, and they both love it. With the sound of waves crashing behind them, the smell of salt and coconut from Eddies shampoo mixing, and a warm embrace between them, the feeling of pattering hearts, it's almost intoxicating and addicting. They could probably stay like that forever, Eddie can only hope. 

"That's okay, right?" Richie asks in Eddies hair, and he feels kind of dumb about it afterward. 

Eddie pulls back to look at Richie from where he's straddling him. "Yes, dumbass." is all he says, and leans forward to wrap his arms around Richie's neck again, and Richie's arms all but tighten around Eddie's waist.

There's no part in either of them that are afraid- afraid to get caught hugging very affectionately under the boardwalk. Maybe they should. But they _aren't_ , and that's probably the best thing to feel: bravery. Eddie realizes he's most brave whenever he's around Richie, he doesn't know if it's the same for him, but. 

When Eddie pulls back to look Richie in his eyes again for a long time, he thinks- no, he _knows_ that he'd want to spend the rest of his life with Richie, and there'd be no complaints. Maybe a few here and there about how messy he is, or not to kiss him in the morning unless they both had brushed their teeth, or when I cook you clean. The thoughts only make Eddie smile, leaning down to pull Richie into a searing kiss. 

Richie can't help but grin into it. Mostly everybody on the beach is leaving, anyway, so what would hurt? They were in the middle under the pier where no one really wanted to be without any sun. 

Eddie pulls away, stifling a laugh when Richie frowns. "Race ya," and he's climbing off of Richie and running towards the outside where the sun still stands halfway in an orange and pink mess, feet sinking into the dry and wet sand. 

Richie knows he hardly has a chance at even passing Eddie, him being really, really fast. But he still tries for the fun of it. 

He pulls the camera out when Eddie is running and jumping into the water, he looks like he belongs here. Richie takes a few digital for the better quality, and the two final polaroids, having used up three ten packs already, this being their fourth. 

"Come on!" Eddie calls out. 

Richie does just that, risking their bag and memories getting stolen, but fuck it. Eddie is the fucking universe in front of him and he couldn't give two shits about anything else.

They're splashing water, running and kicking, jumping and hugging. At some point, Eddie runs toward Richie and jumps, expecting him to catch him. But he doesn't, they both fall in the water and soft sand, drenching their shirts far more. "Asshole! You were supposed to catch me!" Eddie laughs out. 

"This isn't Dirty Dancing, Spaghetti!" Richie says, turning to his side to spit out some water and wipe his glasses that are holding on for dear life. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, wringing out the end of his shirt before running again. And hell yeah, you could play this moment in a movie and play _Time of my Life_ while the credits roll. 

* * *

They stay at Richies aunts house in Pasadena, a very wealthy family. Oddly enough, Richie doesn't have a lot of cousins, most of them are years younger than him. So there's nothing they can really worry about when all they are is two teenage boys in a house which resides a family of three. That third member literally being an eight-year-old girl who wouldn't want anything to do with boys at her age, let alone a cousin she hardly sees that is a decade older than her with his friend. 

"Eds! We can go to Disneyland!" Richie exclaims from the middle of the pool. 

Eddie sits up from his towel, "We don't have money for that." he squints. 

Richie swims over to the edge Eddie sits at, "My aunt does... I don't know how they're loaded," he says, and rests his head on his arms on the concrete. "My dads whole family is probably in the cartel," Richie adds, and Eddie rolls his eyes. 

He's quiet, partially considering and partially turning it down. Then, his aunt comes from inside, with a tray of pineapple juice and mango slices, Eddie swore she was a gift from God. 

"Hi, boys!" she says cheerily, bright smile and all. "What's up, Big Wendy?" Richie pushes himself out of the water. 

She rolled her eyes playfully, "Fixed you two some drinks and fruit. I take it you guys aren't really used to California weather, huh?" to which they both shake their heads at. 

Aunt Wendy babysat Richie when she still lived in Maine, she was barely seventeen when Richie was born. Yet they had a very close bond until she moved to California, maintaining letters and phone calls. 

"We're gonna run some errands," she says after setting the tray on the shaded table. "Don't do anything funny while we're gone. You hear me, Richie?" Wendy points her finger accusingly at Richie, biting back a smile. 

"Loud and clear." Richie points two fingers to his ear. Eddie is just watching the humor spill in front of him. "But you should really be worried about that kid," Richie averts his attention down to Eddie, whose jaw is now dropped. 

"Hey!" Eddie sits up and hits Richies knee. Wendy smiles, "He's an angel. Be quiet, Richie," 

Richie looks at Wendy and scoffs with a laugh, looking down at Eddie and mouthing, _fuck you_. Eddie just smiles brightly.

Then, Wendy and her family are gone, leaving the house to Richie and Eddie. There's a bowl of popcorn in the middle of the sofa they rest in, watching Hercules. It's a stupid movie, they agree, but they push the thought of Hercules being the reason they're still watching, picking at every little detail. 

Eddie rolls his head to the side to look at Richie, to look at the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his nose, and his struggle to keep his attention to the screen. But he can't help it. 

"What," and Richie's voice is dry, like, really dry. Eddies' eyes are going over every small detail on Richies' face. "Nothing, just pretty," Eddie says and rests his head on Richie's shoulder. 

* * *

The remainder of July blurred into one, having too much fun to keep track of whatever the hell was going on. They'd go to Hollywood and Sunset Boulevard, or to the beach. They were at the beach a lot. 

It felt like they'd lived an entire lifetime in Los Angeles, owning the city and a big house in Pasadena they almost always had to themselves. Richie learned to skate, too. Eddie would sit on the lawn and watch Richie fall or land a kickflip- whatever they were called. Then he would try to give him advice on turning his foot or bending his knee, sometimes it works, sometimes Eddie had to patch Richie's knees and elbows up. 

California could be accepting if it wanted to be, and for the most part, it was. But they were always hiding each other, and it hurt. It hurt to know things weren't sunshine and rainbows outside a suburban house. 

They were comfortable there, no worries of overbearing mothers or having to wash the car, or hide feelings for one another. Eddie hadn't really thought about his mom for a while, he'd called her a few times in the course of the last month, and she didn't sound an ounce happy. Eddie was just surprised that she hadn't sent the police to go searching for him, he wouldn't put it against her, but she didn't. 

It had gone something like this: 

_Eddie: Hi, mom._

**_Sonia: Eddie?_ **

_Eddie: Yeah... how are you?_

**_Sonia: Eddie- Eddie, I'm worried sick._ **

_Eddie: ...Sorry to hear that?...I'm good over here, really good. I'm safe, I'm healthy, I'm happy._

**_Sonia: Come back, big cities like that are no good, you're going to get sick like your father-_ **

_Eddie: Don't bring him into this, please._

_**Sonia: Enough with that. I'll keep you safe, Eddiebear.** _

And Eddie would eventually hang up. 

That would be one of the last times Eddie would speak to his mother over the phone, because summer was coming to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is so fucking shitty i apologize . theres only a few chapters left and it'll be the first book i finish lolololol


End file.
